The Quarterback
by Archer.Rose
Summary: When a new quarterback enrolls at McKinley, Santana's forced to decide whether to brave the consequences and come out and be with Brittany or explore what the new jock offers. Eventual Brittana. Santana-centric.  OC.
1. Prologue and Chapter 1

**A/N: This might take a few chapters to get going but I hope you give it a chance and stick with it. I'm posting the first four chapters at once to give you enough of a sense of where things are going. Hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: **Sadly, I own nothing.

Prologue

When he stepped onto the field, he positively swaggered. He was filled with a confidence he'd never felt before and his strut reflected that certainty. This was his time. His year. He was a senior. Defending high school champion. And he felt invincible.

"Hey man," he high-fived a passing teammate. "Good job last year," he fist-bumped another. Finn felt on top of the world. He felt like a football god. He managed to pull together a ragtag bunch of immature, in-fighting prima donnas and brought home fucking States! Now, with Karofsky apparently tamed (by Santana of all people), the tension within the team had reduced considerably. He was sure they'd repeat as State champs and he hoped that could mean a scholarship at some Division III school somewhere.

Things with Rachel were looking up too. After the epic fail that was Nationals, they decided to take it slow (well Rachel decided they should take it slow) and see how things played out, but he was determined to set himself firmly in the "boyfriend" camp and avoid the "just friends" route that "taking it slow" often resulted in. He was sure his new found confidence would win her over and he'd finally get the girl, make a name for himself, and have it all. This was his year.

"Dude!"

Finn glanced to his left and saw Puck jogging towards him.

They clasped hands and bumped chests.

"This year's gonna be awesome," Puck smirked and playfully shoved Finn's chest. "We like rule this joint, dude." Puck took an exaggerated breath. "Can you smell that, bro?" he asked rhetorically. "That's power. This place is ours for the taking! This is our mother-fucking senior year!"

Finn chuckled a bit and shook his head. People were always telling him that modesty was part of being beloved. He didn't really get the association, but he didn't care enough to challenge it either. Finally, he responded with a simple, "totally!"

As they continued reminiscing, a football flew past their line of vision.

"Whoa."

Peering across the field, Finn spotted a tall, muscular jock decked out in McKinley pads and helmet, and sporting a jersey with the number "8" emblazoned on the front and back. The jock stood next to Coach Bieste and Finn could see that he was tall. Not as tall as Finn because that would be like impossible; but the newbie was at least 6 foot.

Number 8 moved effortlessly around the field. His feet never seemed to stop. It was almost as if he was dancing, performing some intricate ballet that allowed him to coast across the field with ease.

And his arm? Finn had never seen anything like it. At least not on a high school team. Number 8 picked up ball after ball, at times rifling it 20-30 yards, at others hurling it down field 50 yards and more, all with pinpoint accuracy.

This was supposed to be his year. He was set to rule the school, get the girl, and finally make a name for himself.

This was not a good sign.

Bieste gestured to a group of receivers running patterns down field and the jock hit each in turn. Again and again and again. It didn't matter the route; wherever the receiver ran, the quarterback hit him _every_ time.

After a seemingly impossible throw that landed square in the receiver's chest, the quarterback took off his (wait, what?)… _her_ helmet and shook out long black hair.

"Oh shit."

Chapter One

"Alright boys, gather round," Coach Bieste instructed. The team circled around her in the middle of the field. All eyes, however, were on the tall brunette next to her. "Welcome back McKinley High State Champions!"

Cheers and chest-thumping resounded across the field.

"Alright, alright," Bieste calmed the team down. "We had an amazing season last year and with teamwork, hard work, and strong leadership, I have every confidence we'll do it again and defend our title!"

After another wave of cheers, Bieste continued. "Now before we get to our official training, I want to introduce you to the newest member of the team. She's an amazing athlete and I want to see you welcome and respect her starting now." She leveled a stern look to seemingly every member of the squad. She grabbed number 8's shoulder and pushed her to the center of the circle.

"Team, welcome Landon Shariff. Riff's a transfer from MLK and will be filling in where she can." Landon stood with her back straight and shoulders square. Her long, straight hair blew across the tan, angular features of her face. She hesitated making eye contact but knew that if they were ever going to accept her, she'd need to start holding her own and then some starting now. She lifted her eyes.

When she was younger, her height was a source of derision and exclusion. Now, in this setting, she used it to her advantage. Few of her teammates could match her stature and she did all she could to make them know that.

Long, strong fingers gripped the helmet at her side. Wide, white knuckles were the only things giving away her nervousness.

She scanned the group and her hazel eyes keyed in on a tall, almost ridiculously so, brown-haired boy eyeing her warily. When their eyes met, she knew instantly that she had met her biggest competition.

Finn surveyed the jock—the _girl_—before him. He squinted, he wanted to believe because of the sun, but deep down he knew it was more than that. It was fear. He tried to push it down and took in his new teammate.

She was tall, just like he thought. A solid 6-foot maybe even 6-1. She was broad-shouldered but slender at the waist. She had light eyes that flickered and changed as they picked up the rich colors of the sky and field around her.

To Finn, she looked exotic. She could even be beautiful if not for the uniform she wore and the threat she posed.

"Riff's gonna be trying out for quarterback—" Before Bieste could finish her statement, a chorus of groans filled the stadium.

"Coach!" Finn asserted. "This isn't fair. _I_ took us to States," he thumped his chest with his helmet. "It's my senior year. I gotta be quarterback!"

Before Finn could continue, Bieste stepped in front of Landon, squeezing her shoulder lightly as she brushed past her.

"Look, nothing's decided right now." She turned to look directly at Finn. "You are our Captain and quarterback unless you or Riff show me otherwise." Bieste pressed a firm hand on his shoulder. "You lead the team, okay? Own it."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Sadly, I own nothing.

Chapter Two

Santana was having a long fucking day.

She woke up late and felt naked without the safety of foundation, mascara, and bright, disarming lipstick that allowed her peers to see her without ever really seeing her.

By the time she got to her locker, Brittany was nowhere to be seen. She couldn't decide if that was a blessing or not.

At second period she couldn't find the kickass essay she'd written analyzing the Shakespearean influences in _The Incredibly True Adventures of Two Girls in Love_. Sure, the subject of the paper hit a little too close to home for Santana, but she was sure her teacher would brush it off as Santana just trying to be provocative. She tried to excuse the missing essay by saying she'd been mugged leaving Lima Heights Adjacent early that morning and her teacher gave her a two-day extension, but her initial paper was frickin boss and she could only hope she remembered to save it to her computer this time.

To top everything off, some freshman bumped into her at the start of lunch, spilling his drink across her almost sheer white blouse.

"Jesus Christ!"

It was all she could do not to lay him out right there. Luckily for the freshman, she just couldn't find the energy to sock him and he was able to scurry away before she could respond physically.

If Santana was honest with herself, she'd admit that her current malaise had more to do with a certain blue-eyed blonde than the minor irritations that plagued her day.

But Santana was the queen of self-denial. In more ways than one.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"Son of a bitch!" Santana stormed into the girls' locker room, grateful that she knew the Cheerios training schedule from her days on the squad and the room was empty like she'd imagined.

Still cursing while turning a corner around a set of lockers next to the showers, Santana stopped abruptly. Sprawled across a low bench between two sets of lockers was a set of football pads and jersey. She could finally hear the steady pulse of water coming from the showers close by.

All of her frustration and anger from the day overcame her at that moment and Santana didn't know if she could stop the outburst if she wanted to. Luckily, she didn't.

"What the fuck! Hey, dickwad! This is the _girls'_ fucking locker room. Get your pervy ass," she picked up a pair of spandex football tights and flung them away from her, "hairy ass, rank ass"—she really felt the best rhyme for ass was ass—she paused for a second before deciding her current instincts were correct, "_ass_ out of the girls' fucking locker!"

As Santana looked around the room in disgust, a wet, dark-haired head emerged from the partition separating the showers from the lockers.

"Oh hey, sorry about that. That's mine."

Santana whipped her head around at the decidedly female voice.

"What the fuck?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

Chapter Three

"I didn't think anyone else would be here right now. Sorry for the mess. Gimme a sec and I'll take care of it." Landon eyed Santana lightly, smirking at the confusion still evident on the other girl's face before retreating back to her shower. _Cute_.

"Wait. What?" Santana blinked, and when her vision cleared she found herself staring at the space where the stranger's head had been. "How can they be yours? You can't be on the football team," she stated incredulously to the empty space.

From the other side of the partition, Landon chuckled. "Apparently I can. It's a whole Title 9 thing. You should check it out," Landon responded without malice or snark, although Santana could hear the amusement in the other girl's voice.

Santana stood awkwardly, trying to figure out how a girl got on a championship football team. Sure, Berry and friends played one game but that was when half the team bailed and they were left in the lurch.

Now they were State Champs and legitimate contenders to repeat. Why would they let a girl on the team?

Hearing the water cut off, Santana sat heavily on one of the benches not littered with gear, trying to wrap her mind around the whole thing. When she looked up, she saw a tall, bronze, _fit _body wrapped lightly in a towel. A very short towel.

Santana knew she was staring but she couldn't stop herself. The woman in front of her was gorgeous. Well, her body was gorgeous. Her gaze hadn't quite made it up to the girl's face. All Santana could see were legs that didn't seem to stop, a short swatch of towel, then broad, bronze shoulders. My God those shoulders had her speechless.

A polite clearing of the throat pulled her out of her daze. "Um, so tell me how you made it on the football team," Santana directed, trying to cover her obvious staring with casual conversation. When she saw the other girl grab a duffle and start to remove her towel, she stood and quickly turned around.

Landon smiled. The girl was _cute_. When Santana had been staring at Landon, Landon had been doing her own reconnaissance. The girl in front of her was smoking hot with silky black hair, smouldering brown eyes and plump, pouty lips. Her current discomfort only served to soften the edge she tried to project and Landon found it all extremely appealing.

"Just tried out," she replied. "I was quarterback at my old school. We were only a 1A school so it wasn't very competitive, but I thought I'd give it shot here." She shrugged. "I guess Bieste saw something she liked and she put me on officially today."

Santana wasn't really paying attention. She was trying too hard to get her nerves under control. When she chanced a quick peek behind her, she saw that the other girl had put on a pair of baggy, military-style green pants but no shirt. Her ripped, naked back was a sight to behold, but before Santana could appreciate it fully, she caught sight of something dark and scrolling trailing down just inside of the girl's left shoulder blade.

"You have a tattoo!" she shouted, mentally slapping herself across the face. Hard. She spun back around and cursed her inability to hold it together in front of this girl. "Total fucking spaz," she whispered to herself.

Landon just chuckled. "Yea."

"Like, how old are you?"

Landon laughed loudly at that. "I'm 17, but I got it when I was 14. I've never really been one to follow the rules, ya know?"

"What is it?" Santana asked quietly. She wanted to get a better look but was too afraid to chance another peek behind her.

"It's Arabic. It's a prayer for a peaceful heart."

"That's kinda deep for a 14-year old."

"Yea, well, I was kinda deep as a kid. I'm decent, by the way." Landon chuckled again. "Well, I'm clothed at least."

Santana turned and for the first time really looked at the girl. She was beautiful. She had long, dark hair that she pulled back into a ponytail. In her eyes, Santana could make out flecks of gold and green and deep, dark blues. In addition to her green military pants, the girl had put on a black t-shirt that had had the sleeves ripped off. And the chick had guns. Even relaxed her biceps were clearly defined and the muscles of her forearms rippled gently as she adjusted herself.

Landon smiled widely at Santana, hands casually held at her hips as she watched the other girl appraise her.

She wasn't huge. She didn't look like one of those hulky bodybuilder types who didn't seem to be able to lower their arms completely. Her muscles were feminine, long and lean rather than bulging and stiff. But it was clear the girl was _strong_. For a moment Santana pictured her hurling footballs down field and she got a little light-headed.

After what Landon believed to be an acceptable appraisal, she stretched out her right hand.

"Landon, by the way. Landon Shariff."

Santana took her hand and held it firmly. If her parents had taught her anything it was the importance of a firm handshake. A weak handshake was a sign of weak character, and Santana would never let someone believe she was weak.

"Santana." After a beat, she was met with a raised eyebrow. With a sign and a roll of her eyes, Santana continued, "Lopez."

"Well, Santana Lopez, it's certainly been a pleasure." Without releasing Santana's hand, Landon took a moment to take Santana in and finally noticed the state of her attire. "What happened to your shirt?"

"Ugh, fucking freshmen." They separated.

Landon laughed at the attitude. This girl was _boss_. "Well you can borrow one of mine if you like." She picked up her duffle and handed Santana a faded black t-shirt with "Harley-Davidson" embossed boldly across the front.

"Seriously? This is what you want me to wear."

"Hey, it's all I have. You know the whole beggars can't be choosers thing? That's what this is."

With an exaggerated sigh, Santana began to remove her shirt. She looked up at Landon who was leaning casually against the lockers with her arms crossed over her chest. The tall girl grinned broadly at her.

"Do you mind?" Santana asked, letting her annoyance come through.

"Not at all. Nothing I haven't seen before, beautiful."

With a huff, Santana turned her back to Landon and changed her shirt. It was much too big and definitely not her style, but she figured she didn't have a choice. She gathered the loose material at the bottom and tied it in a tight knot to one side.

"You know," Landon spoke up and Santana could hear the other girl push off the lockers. Santana turned to face her. "I would've pegged you as one of those cheerleader types but you're not wearing that uniform I keep seeing circling through the halls. Not to say you're not totally rocking that shirt."

Santana half-smiled at the compliment. "Well, I was a Cheerio but quit last year." She shrugged and shook her head dismissively.

Landon stowed her gear and picked up her bag. "That's too bad," she said as she started making her way out of the locker room.

"Why's that?" Santana asked curiously, following the taller girl.

With a hand on the locker room door, Landon turned to look at Santana over her shoulder. "Because I _love_ cheerleaders," and with a wink she was out the door. Santana could barely hear the "Later Lopez" through the gently swaying door.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

No matter how hard she tried to rush, Santana knew she'd be late to glee.

Sure enough, when she pushed through the choir room doors everyone was seated and Schue was standing at his beloved whiteboard with the word "anticipation" scrawled messily across it. She hurried to a seat next to Brittany before noticing the silence.

"What?" she barked, clearly annoyed.

Brittany leaned into her. "What are you wearing?" she asked softly. Everyone seemed to nod at the question.

With a heavy sigh and eye roll, Santana replied, "some freshman flunkie spilled his crap all over me at lunch. This was all I could get, okay?"

"Are you okay?" Brittany asked, placing her hand gently on Santana's forearm. She was rewarded with a soft smile and nod from Santana.

"I think you look really cute," Brittany added, and Santana's smile broadened before she ducked her head and looked away.

"Okay, guys," Schue interrupted, trying to get everyone's attention. "Now that we're all here, let's get started."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **Sadly, I still own nothing. Not the show or the song.

Chapter Four

Santana stared at her bedroom ceiling. She'd been there for hours, flat against the bed, fingers tracing distracted patterns across her stomach, and just… staring. So many thoughts. Too many. Her life was a fucking mess and she didn't know what to do about it.

_Brittany_.

It always came back to her, didn't it?

Their relationship over the summer had become…strained, at least for Santana it had. Brittany spent the majority of the break traveling with her family and Santana couldn't decide if she was grateful for the space or just saddened and frustrated by it. They texted, spoke on occasion, and Brittany's chipper nonchalance was driving Santana crazy. Brittany seemed so sure of everything and Santana…Santana was drowning. Drowning in thoughts and feelings and decisions she didn't know how to process.

With the start of school, the two of them had fallen into familiar patterns that seemed to allow Brittany to flourish but just made Santana feel more and more unsure.

The pair still gossiped. Shared inside jokes. Sought each other's company in hallways and shared classes. During weekends they were almost inseparable. They wandered the mall with pinkies linked, sipped way too sweet coffee at the Lima Bean, giggled over the questionable fashion choices as they people-watched. Most importantly, they cuddled as they'd always had as best friends.

But it wasn't the same and it wasn't enough.

And what frightened Santana most was the recurring thought that _she_ wasn't enough. That she wasn't kind enough, open enough, strong enough, _good_ enough for Brittany. She never had been, and after Brittany's relationship with Artie, Santana was terrified that now Brittany knew it too.

Santana didn't know what to do.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

The following day, Santana had to stay after regular classes let out to complete her AP Biology lab. She walked the quiet halls thinking how school would almost be bearable if it was always this empty. Truth was Santana liked school. She liked learning new things, and dissecting that fetal pig had been awesome. If it wasn't for the actual _people_, the social games she felt forced to play, she'd totally dig the whole school thing.

Rounding a corner, she could hear the faint sound of music coming from the gym. She knew Cheerios had outdoor practice today so the gym should've been empty. Curious, she decided to check it out. As she approached she could hear "I Want It All / We Will Rock You" from the _Sucker Punch _soundtrack and paused. _What the fuck? _She stepped through the doors and froze.

A group of girls, maybe five or six, were crumping hardcore to the heavy beats of the song. They wore black spandex shorts and matching sports bras, and their collective moments were hard, abrupt, and intense. Santana caught a brief glimpse of a tall figure in the middle but before she could zero in on her, the group suddenly broke out of crump and moved seamlessly into hip hop swag.

And then she saw her.

She stood out from the group not only because of her height but because she was the only one not dressed in the standard workout gear. It was Landon.

She wore baggy black pants that hung low on her hips, sensuous hipbones peeking over the waistband. A tight black tank top clung to her chest and Santana could see flashes of her bare midriff as she moved.

The rest of the dancers slithered around Landon, clutching at various parts of her body as she moved with them to the beat. She grabbed the back of the neck of one of the dancers roughly, dragging her up her body as they pulsed to the music.

_I want it all _

_I need it all_

_Right now_

Their hips pressed together as Landon pulled the other girl tall, holding her head inches from her lips. At that moment, Landon certainly seemed to have it all.

Quickly, she spun the girl away as the group moved back into formation, hips popping, chests thrusting, shoulders rolling rhythmically.

Santana was enthralled by all of it. How they slid across the gym floor uniformly. How they transitioned from gyrating sensually to crumping so fiercely every muscle in their bodies contracted and relaxed and contracted and relaxed. Through it all, however, her eyes consistently fell back to Landon. It was clear who was leading this dance, who controlled everyone on the floor, who commanded your attention. And Santana couldn't look away.

The song ended with dancers almost climbing up Landon's body and Santana could see her chest heaving from the exertion of the number. In an instant, however, everyone broke apart and Santana watched them laugh and cuff each other's shoulders playfully. They moved to their gear stashed by the bleachers and started cooling down, sipping from their water bottles and toweling off.

After a few moments, Landon finally caught her eye and smiled. She picked up a towel from her duffle, said her farewells and made her way slowly, rolling her hips, to where Santana waited by the gym doors.

Santana's eyes flickered over Landon's body. The quarterback was laced with sweat, despite running a towel across her face and behind her neck. Dark hair fell haphazardly around her shoulders, sticking were it fell. She was breathtaking.

"You know," Landon began, "we don't usually allow audiences. At least for practice." She smiled broadly at Santana.

"Is that so?" Santana smirked back. "What is all this anyway?" she gestured to the departing dancers.

"Just a dance crew I was in at MLK. McKinley doesn't have one so they were nice enough to come down here and fool around." She took a sip of water. "I can't compete with them anymore, but it's still nice to get together now and then." She paused, "what'd you think?"

"Eh," Santana joked. "I've seen better." Her smile gave her away and she laughed outright when Landon raised an eyebrow at her.

"That so? Well, maybe you should join us next time." Landon stepped up close, placing her right hand on the wall next to Santana, resting her weight on her outstretched arm. "Come on, you know you wanna get up on this?" She playfully gestured to herself with her free hand.

Santana followed Landon's hand down her body then pulled her eyes up abruptly. Landon leaned into Santana slightly.

"You should join glee," she blurted, immediately regretting the eagerness in her voice.

"Glee?" Landon pulled back with an amused grin. "Isn't that for, like, singing?"

"Yea." Santana pushed off against the wall she was leaning on and put some distance between them. "We got to Nationals last year and we're totally gonna take the whole thing this year." She grabbed Landon's hand and looked her in the eye. "You should join," she repeated.

"You don't even know if I can sing," Landon smiled, squeezing Santana's hand lightly.

"Doesn't matter. Half the kids in glee can't sing. Well," she conceded, "at least not as well as I can." She released Landon's hand and crossed her arms over her chest smugly. "I mean, we take on dancers too. What's the matter?" she smiled cockily. "Scared?"

"Ha!" Landon chuckled and shook her head. "So you're really good?"

"_Really_ good."

"Well you're just full of surprises." Landon picked up her duffle and turned back to Santana, searching the other girl's deep brown eyes. "We'll see," she smirked and sauntered out the door; "Later Lopez," once again drifting in from an empty hallway.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks for the alerts and review! I'd love to get more reviews if possible. So drop me a line and let me know what you think. I know the pacing's a little slow at the moment if you're just looking for Brittana. But hopefully it's all worth it in the end. :) And Brittany finally appears here! Yay!**

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything.

Chapter Five

"Hey B. What's up?" Santana was pleasantly surprised by the blonde's call late Saturday afternoon.

"Hi."

After a prolonged beat, Santana responded, "you need anything, Britt?"

"No, not really."

Silence once again. Santana shifted on the bed, bringing herself into a cross-legged position and placing an open magazine in front of her.

"Um, you know you called me, right?" Sometimes Brittany chose not to follow social conventions. It didn't really bother Santana but it also didn't stop her from reminding Brittany those conventions existed from time to time. "You're supposed to start the conversation if you're the one calling, B."

"I know." Another extended pause. "I'm bored and just wanted to hear your voice."

Santana smiled through the silence and threw herself back against the bed. She was giddy. Santana Motherfucking Lopez was actually giddy.

She huffed after collecting herself. "Get dressed. I'll be there in 30 minutes." Santana heard an excited "like a boss" and the phone went dead. She chuckled and put on a pair of dark skinny jeans, white tank top, and oversized, navy shirt that hung off one shoulder slightly.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

True to her word, Santana showed up outside Brittany's house 30 minutes after her call. Normally, she'd blow the horn of her Range Rover and wait for Brittany to come to her. Today, however, she decided to go to the door and pick her girl up.

Using the rearview mirror, she fixed her hair and touched up her lipstick before pushing her way out of the car and walking up to the Pierce's home.

Santana couldn't remember the last time she actually rang the Pierce's bell but she handled it with only a minor wave of nausea, and after a beat much too quick for Santana's liking, the door flung open, revealing a beautiful but slightly harried woman.

"Hey Mrs Pierce. I'm here for Brittany." Santana rocked back and forth—toe-heel, toe-heel. She hated feeling so unsure. Of course she was there for Brittany. She'd been picking Brittany up since they were 7 and they'd walk or bike to the neighborhood park. Surely Mrs Pierce would know why Santana was there. And even if she didn't, Santana shouldn't have given a fuck.

"Santana!" Mrs Pierce cheered and hugged the girl tightly. "Long time no see!" The older woman's arms around her were invigorating, life-sustaining. It amazed Santana how good it could feel to be held by an adult. Sure, she and Brittany hugged probably more than should be socially acceptable for friends, and Santana loved every spine-tingling minute of it. But this was different. Both were comforting, but they spoke to different needs. In Mrs Pierce's embrace, Santana felt like a kid who mattered. Like she had some secret potential that Mrs Pierce knew was just waiting to be fulfilled. Santana sank into her, hoping to soak some of the older woman's confidence and belief into herself.

After what was only a brief moment, Mrs Pierce released Santana and sent her upstairs to retrieve Brittany.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

They wandered around the mall for a couple hours, trying on various items and purchasing a few. Santana laughed as Brittany modeled different knit caps, each more elaborate and garish than the previous one. She ended up buying Brittany a Fozzy Bear cap with orange pompoms dangling from the ears and Brittany refused to take it off for the rest of the day.

They ended their trip with an iced coffee in the food court.

"So the first home game's next Saturday," Brittany uttered causally as she traced her finger through the condensation left on the table.

"Mm," was Santana's only reply. She was distracted by a middle-aged woman in cut-off shorts and sparkly tank top. _Clothes really need age limits_, she mused to herself.

"I'm gonna go to support the guys." Brittany stopped her tracing and started playing with the straw of her coffee instead. She eyed Santana covertly.

"Yea, that's a good idea." Santana responded distractedly. _Were those __culottes__? Really?_

Brittany huffed a little. "You going?" she tried sounding casual but she was getting frustrated with Santana's noncommittal responses. She wanted to be more independent; she _was_ more independent. That didn't mean she still didn't enjoy (even crave) Santana's company.

Santana sighed, tearing herself away from the bevy of bad fashion milling through the mall. "It'll feel weird to be there without being Cheerios. And it'll be boring as all get out," she paused, looking at Brittany's crestfallen face, "but I'll probably go." Brittany perked up at that and smiled toothily. Santana returned it with a more subdued grin of her own.

Brittany clapped lightly. "Want me to pick you up? We can go together and cheer on our own. I'm working on some totally dope cheers."

"That sounds great, Britt." Santana smiled and grabbed Brittany's hand, squeezing gently before releasing it and picking up her coffee. "They're gonna be awesome."

Brittany smiled confidently and nodded. "Totally."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

After the mall, they decided to hang at Brittany's and watch the latest _Fast and Furious_. They were on Brittany's bed with Brittany working on her badass cheers, stretching out her arms every now and then and muttering to herself. Santana was doing her best to avoid getting poked in the eye by Brittany's unpredictable movements and watch Vin Diesel try not to look gay.

Brittany sighed suddenly, closing her notebook and turning to Santana. "I can't believe we're seniors, San."

"I know right!," Santana replied excitedly, losing interest in the movie. "Nine fucking months and then we're outta this shithole." She sighed with barely contained longing and flopped back on the bed. "We just gotta survive 9 months," she whispered almost to herself. She smiled at the ceiling, relieved that someday, someday really fucking soon, she'd be out of Lima for good.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks for the great comments and alerts! I love hearing from you. Just to clarify, this is set after Season Two. It's the start of their senior year and Brittany and Artie have broken up but Santana and Brittany are still kind of in limbo. Be sure to let me know what you think!**

**Disclaimer:**I own nothing. Not the show and not the song, which is B.O.B's "Airplanes," btw.

Chapter Six

The following week of school went markedly better for Santana. She purchased an industrial model alarm clock whose alarm frightened her so much she woke up a full 30 minutes before the damn thing was set to go off just so she wouldn't be subjected to the god-awful wail. Subsequently, she hadn't been late to school since.

She met Brittany every morning at their lockers, aced her AP English report, and was excited about this week's biology lab on amino acids (she was pretty sure she was going to get to burn shit up).

Overall, Santana's week was looking up.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"This is bullshit!"

"Santana! Language," Mr Schue implored. "Look guys," he sighed. "This is just a preliminary look-"

"No fucking way!" Santana interrupted. She rolled her eyes and gave an apologetic nod at Schue for the curse. "Look," she took a deep breath, "we do this every year. We work our asses off to get to Nationals, then give every lead to Man Hands and Creampuff Nips-"

"Hey!"

"And _lose_! Every. Time."

"Look Santana, no one liked losing Nationals, least of all Finn and me," Rachel began. "But we're given leads because our voices pair the best and we have the strongest stage presence as a couple. Crowds love us!"

"Oh really! Then we should have a couple National Championships hanging around, huh?" Santana looked around the room dramatically. "Oh wait, we don't cuz you two can't put the _team_," she emphasized, "above whatever shit you got going on at the moment. We've come up short every time we let _you_ work out _your_ issues on stage. I for one want to win the damn thing, and this" she gestured at Rachel and Finn, "isn't working."

"Okay, okay, let's calm down." Schue stepped up and called the group's attention. "While I think Finn and Rachel have performed well in the past, Santana might have a point. Maybe we need to shake things up a bit."

Rachel was livid. "Mr Schue! You cannot be serious!" Her shrieking was interrupted, however, by a light rapping on the choir room door.

"Hey, um, am I too late? To join glee club?" Landon stood at the choir room door. She knew she entered during a rather heated debate, about what she hadn't a clue, but she figured she was going to have to interrupt at some point and the sooner the better.

The room fell silent and Landon tried to project casual confidence. She wore tan cargo pants that were tight along her hips but loose in the legs and crotch, and a black "Harley Davidson" shirt similar to the one she let Santana borrow last week. It certainly fit her better than Santana. It clung to her broad shoulders, and stretched across her breasts and taut stomach. She held a handful of books casually at her side.

Landon scanned the room quickly before her eyes settled on Santana in the front row. They exchanged quick smiles that did not go unnoticed by the beautiful blonde sitting next to Santana.

Schue approached her with an outstretched hand. "No, of course not. We're always open to new members. I'm Mr Schuester." They shook hands briefly. Schue was relieved to have something to lessen the tension in the room. "Why don't you introduce yourself and tell us what you bring to glee."

"Oh, um," Landon stepped up. "I'm Landon. Sharriff. You can call me Riff if you like. I'm new, obviously. I transferred from MLK. I'm a senior. Um," she glanced at her football teammates and wondered if she should say anything or acknowledge them somehow. So far, while they hadn't befriended her, they didn't give her too much grief either. Unless they were told to interact with her on the field, they basically ignored her. It was a tenuous relationship at best at this point, and in the end, she decided to avoid the topic altogether. "As for what I bring, I don't know. I play guitar. Dance a bit. I guess I can carry a tune if the music's loud enough," she chuckled softly at herself.

She looked up at mostly curious stares. Finn squinted at her, but she figured that was his standard look. The rest of the guys looked on noncommittal, still a bit wary about having a girl on the football team, no matter how talented she appeared to be. Santana smiled at her lightly. Landon couldn't resist giving her a little wink. A short brunette appraised her unabashedly. Landon pulled her books over her crotch and held them with both hands. The small girl's upfront appraisal unnerved her. Her gaze wasn't unfriendly but it certainly felt…_clinical_. A beautiful blonde sitting next to Santana looked at her hesitantly, brows furrowed. The blonde seemed overly interested in her shirt and Landon hoped it was because she was a fellow motorcycle enthusiast but the suspicion she saw in the bright blue eyes suggested otherwise. _Tough crowd_.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to Mr Schue. "Alright!" he said overly cheerful. "Why don't you show us what you got?" He took a seat in the front row next to Santana and Brittany.

"Like, now?"

"Sure! It doesn't have to be overly complicated. Just sing us a little bit of something. Anything you like."

"Oh, okay." She put her books down on the piano. "Hey Lopez, you wanna help me out here?" She smiled at the surprised brunette.

All eyes were suddenly on Santana. She shrugged and made her way to Landon. "What'd you have in mind?"

Brittany's eyes followed Santana, wondering how they knew each other. Santana hadn't mentioned the girl and the brunette knew Brittany liked meeting new people. It was curious and disconcerting at the same time. The girl was beautiful. She was tall and lean and her eyes glittered under the florescent lights. She held herself confidently which only intensified her attractiveness.

What disturbed Brittany, though, was the new girl's outfit. It was obvious that the clothes Santana had borrowed last week belonged to Landon. Brittany didn't like the implications of how Santana would find herself in this stranger's shirt.

Landon and Santana conferred quietly.

Santana replied with a "dope" and a fist bump before taking off her jacket, placing it on the piano and moving over to talk to Brad. At first chords of the song, Landon leaned into Santana and whispered "let's see what you got, Lopez."

Santana shot her a confident, seductive smile.

_Can we pretend that airplanes _

_In the night sky are like shooting stars?_

_I could really use a wish right now_

_Wish right now, wish right now_

As Santana repeated the chorus, Landon gave her an appreciative nod and began moving to the music, eyeing Santana as the smaller girl sang. When it was her cue, Landon performed a quick spin that brought her facing the glee club.

_Yeah, I could use a dream or a genie or a wish_

_To go back to a place much simpler than this_

_Cuz after all of the partyin' and smashin' and crashin'_

_And all the glitz and the glam and the fashion_

_And all the pandemonium and the madness_

_There comes a time where you fade to the blackness_

_And when you starin' at the phone in your lap_

_And you hopin' but them people never call you back_

_But that's just how the story unfolds_

_You get another hand soon after you fold_

_And when your plans unravel_

_And they sayin' what would you wish for_

_If you had one chance_

_So airplane airplane sorry I'm late_

_I'm on my way so don't close that gate_

_If I don't make that then I'll switch my flight_

_And I'll be right back at it by the end of the night_

Landon's voice was deep and melodic. She rapped with purpose and clarity, feeling the words and making them pop as she glided across the floor. She rocked her hips to the beat, using her body to punctuate the words. When it came time for Santana's chorus once again, Landon moved toward her, wrapping an arm around her waist before sliding up behind her, holding Santana's hips as they matched their movements to the music.

There were a couple "woots" and "alrights" from the group as the duo performed. Most of the glee clubbers danced in their seats; even most of the football boys smiled and cheered the duo on. Finn, however, continued to squint and slouch in his seat, unmoved.

Brittany tried to get into it; she really did. She loved the song and she loved hearing Santana sing even more. But something about the new girl made her uneasy. It wasn't necessarily the flirting. Santana was super hot. Everyone flirted with her. At least Brittany thought everyone _should_ flirt with her. And they were just dancing. Dancing, even provocative dancing didn't need to mean anything. Brittany knew that better than most.

It was just…the liberty the new girl seemed to take with Santana, and the liberty Santana let her take. There was too much familiarity in their movements and it didn't sit well with the blonde. Santana never took to people quickly. Brittany was the only exception and even she had met Santana as a kid, long before Santana's defenses had solidified and she became the guarded person she was today.

Brittany chewed the corner of her thumbnail quietly, tapping her foot too quickly to be in time with the music.

Landon and Santana performed like they'd been doing this their whole lives. They pulled close during the chorus, teased each other from across the piano during Landon's verses, their eyes straying from each other only enough to make the rest of the room feel included.

When the song came to an end, Santana found herself facing Landon, the taller girl's hands on her hips, pulling her close. She smelled like fresh rain and Santana blinked several times to clear her head. Landon smiled broadly before letting her go and Santana took her seat, leaving Landon on her own in front of the group.

"Well alright!" Schue stood, clapped along with the rest of the club—with a few notable exceptions. Brittany simply stared at Santana, perplexed. Finn rolled his eyes and slumped down in his seat further. "Landon, let me be the first to officially welcome you to glee club!"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Landon stood up and stretched. Schue finally called the meeting to a close and Landon was more than happy to extract herself from the cramped chair she was sitting in. Before she could move very far, however, a very excited Rachel cornered the tall girl and smiled widely.

"Landon, let me just commend you on your excellent performance today, although 'Airplanes' would not have been my first choice as it does not give you adequate opportunities to showcase the range, tenor, and power of your voice. Fortunately, I have a highly trained ear and was able to pick out a unique depth and richness to your voice that I would like to explore more thoroughly."

"Uh-"

"And I have just the venue for this vocal examination as it were. A glee club karaoke-bowling extravaganza! Most of the club has already agreed to go and this is the perfect opportunity for me to better dissect the talents you bring in a setting that is both congenial and inspiring. It's this Friday at 6. Here's the address," she handed Landon a notecard.

"Um, thanks." Landon was a bit overwhelmed and it took her a minute to catch up to everything Rachel threw at her. "Wait, did you say it starts at 6? Like 6 pm?"

Rachel let out an exaggerated sigh. "Yes, I've been told it's unusually early, but Finn's starring quarterback on the football team and they have their first home game on Saturday. We need to make it an early night if he's to recuperate fully and prepare properly for his game. I hope the early start does not discourage your attendance."

"Oh," Landon didn't know how to respond, how much she should reveal. "So who all's going?"

"Well, yours truly, of course, and Finn, Kurt, Mercedes," she gestured to the individuals who remained, "Puck and Artie. Unfortunately, Mike and Tina are 'working on them' and Lauren has a wrestling function so they won't make it."

"What about Santana?" Landon wondered.

"Santana? Well, she's invited, of course, as are Brittany and Quinn, but I doubt they'll want to come. Santana doesn't really socialize with the group."

"Why not?" Landon was curious. She found Santana intriguing and wanted to get to know her better.

"Well, I guess you'd have to ask Santana that, but I wouldn't recommend it," Rachel added quickly. "I just think she prefers the company of those higher up the on the social ladder. Anyway, I hope to see you there, Landon. I think you are going to be an excellent addition to the group and I'd be happy to take you under my wing as your show choir mentor." Rachel smiled widely, clutched her books to her chest and left abruptly.

"Uh, thanks," Landon called after the girl. She looked around the room still reeling slightly from the Rachel Berry experience.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

After glee, Santana left to drop off some books and Brittany followed.

The leggy blonde leaned against the lockers, her eyes downcast. She fiddled with the straps of her backpack. "So, how do you know the new girl?"

"Landon?" Santana asked distractedly. "I met her in the girls' locker room last week. She's the one who lent me that god-awful shirt. Oh, and get this," Santana shut her locker excitedly. "She's on the football team! The _football_ team. That's so badass!" Santana felt good. Like really good. She loved performing and was impressed by the new girl's audition. Even though she totally stole the show. She leaned back against her locker and turned to smile at Brittany.

Brittany rarely saw Santana this excited. She delighted in Santana's delight but couldn't help the nervousness that invaded her gut. "You like her," she said simply. It wasn't question, but Santana took it as one anyway.

"Yea, I guess. I mean we haven't really hung out or anything, but I think she could be cool. You're really gonna like her, B. She's a dancer and had this dance troupe or something at her old school. Maybe the two of you could start one here. Wouldn't that be awesome?" Santana grabbed Brittany's forearm, excited for her friend.

Brittany sighed and rolled her eyes, "she's a dancer?" She pushed off against the locker, stood up straight and crossed her arms over her chest. "So, she's a football playing, guitar-playing _dancer_ who's totally hot and can rap?"

"I know, right! She's like some made-up lead outta a teen movie or something."

"Aren't those always guys?" Brittany pouted slightly.

"Yea but it's like a hundred times better that she's a girl." Santana smiled broadly looking back at Brittany. She finally noticed the dullness edging into the other girl's normally bright eyes. "Hey," she reached out and placed a calming hand on Brittany's shoulder, "what's wrong?"

"It's nothing," Brittany sighed. "So what kind of dancing does she do? Did you get to see her?"

"From what I can tell mostly hip hop, but I only saw part of one song. She was practicing with her old crew and they were amazing. She totally rocked it."

"So you like her dancing?" Santana took in Brittany's down-turned eyes, shuffling feet, and small pout. She smiled lightly and took the blonde's hands in her own, squeezing them gently until the other girl met her eyes.

"She's really good. But you're still the best dancer I've ever seen."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"Hey Ladies, wait up!" Landon called after Santana and Brittany as they made their way down the hall. She smiled at Santana and turned to Brittany. "Hi," she extended her hand, "Brittany, right?"

Brittany stared at the outstretched hand. She really wanted to give this girl a chance but for as sweet as Brittany was she was equally as stubborn and protective. And something about this girl felt threatening. She hugged her arms to her chest, refusing the other girl's greeting, and moved behind Santana a bit.

Santana frowned at her friend's uncharacteristic chilliness. Before she could reach out to comfort Brittany and ask what was wrong, Landon retracted her hand and continued.

"Um, okay, well Rachel mentioned this karaoke-bowling thing for glee on Friday. You guys going?"

Santana snorted derisively, "karaoke-bowling? Unlikely."

Landon reached out and touched Santana's arm lightly. "Why not? Sounds fun."

"Please. Hanging out with the gleeks on my own time is not high on my priorities list."

Landon laughed. "You're the one who told me to join the club!" Brittany stiffened next to Santana. "What's the big deal about hanging out with them?"

"I said join glee, not become bffs with everyone."

"Come on," Landon urged. "From what I walked into, there's a lot of frickin' tension in this group. And this may be my first show choir, but I've done team sports all my life and tension within a team that has to rely on and trust each other to win doesn't work. This could be just the thing to smooth things over. You wanna win, don't ya?" Landon knew she was close to persuading Santana and she pulled out the big guns. "Besides, how are you going to show Berry up with that super sexy voice of yours if you're not there?" She winked and by Santana's evil smirk Landon knew she had her.

"_Maybe_ Britt and I will make an appearance. When's the damn thing start?"

Landon cringed. "Oh well, 6."

Santana's jaw dropped. "Six. Like 6 at night, seriously?" At Landon's nod, Santana shook her head. "Fucking Berry."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thanks for reading! Just a heads up, Chapter Seven might take a little longer to update. It'll cover the karaoke-bowling extravaganza and it's taking me a while to figure out how much I want to go down there. I'd love to hear what you think and what you all might want to see happen. I've got a pretty good idea of the overall story, but I'm open to suggestions for little things you might want included. Thanks again! Please review if you get the chance!**


	7. Chapter 7 Part I

**A/N: Just a little heads up that this is a Landon-heavy chapter to start. I need to set up some of her background before things move too far. Sorry to all of you waiting for more Brittana. It's coming, I promise! Please stick with it. And to those who like Landon-Santana (Lantana?), thanks! I hope everyone's enjoying the journey. I also had to break up the karaoke-bowling extravaganza. Hope it keeps you coming back for more! :) Please review if you get the chance.**

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

Chapter Seven Part I

"Lopez! Wait up!"

Santana turned at the greeting to see Landon jogging up to meet her. It was the Friday before the big game and like the rest of the team, Landon was decked out in her red football jersey. "Where you heading?" Landon asked.

"Economics. You?"

"Cool, I'll walk with you. I got weightlifting."

Santana chuckled. "Is that even a class?"

"Sure!" Landon draped an arm casually across Santana's shoulders. "It's totally a legitimate elective. Don't you read your course listings?"

They made their way down the hall amidst the roaming students, chatting amiably. As a hockey jock and his Cheerio girlfriend made their way past the pair, a whispered but unmistakable "dyke" met Santana's ear and she froze.

Without missing a beat, however, Landon stopped and responded. "That's right, genius. We got a problem, here?" Landon turned slowly and crossed her arms, twitching biceps and forearms clearly displayed by the tight jersey she wore. She stared the hockey jock down for a moment before focusing on the cute blonde at his side, giving her a charming smile. "Hey, beautiful. When you're ready to know what a real orgasm feels like, look me up." Landon winked and the Cheerio blushed, smiling at the taller girl shyly before covering her grin with her hand.

"Hey!" was all Hockey Jock could get out as his girlfriend pulled him away. Landon smirked, threw her arm back over Santana's shoulders and started to move down the hall once again. She met resistance and noticed Santana rooted to her spot, staring at her perplexed.

The taller girl shrugged, "what?"

"Aren't you, like, worried about what people are saying about you?" Santana was dumbfounded. _Who did this girl think she was? _Where_ did she think she was? This was Lima fucking Ohio for crying out loud!_

Landon tugged Santana forward and they continued walking. "Please," Landon dismissed the thought. "I'd rather not waste energy worrying about what small-minded bigots think of me. Come on," she stopped and gestured at herself, "I'm a 6-foot tall, female football player who likes cargo pants, motorcycles and Joan Jett," she pointed to her black concert shirt. "I'm not exactly subtle and I don't think there's a closet in the world big enough to hold me." She smirked at Santana. "Besides, I'd _much_ rather spend all that extra energy," she paused and raked her eyes up and down Santana's body, "on more _pleasurable_ endeavors." She winked and continued walking.

She only made it a few steps before she paused and turned back to Santana. "This isn't going to be a problem for you, is it?"

Santana was thoughtful. It _should_ be a problem for her. There were already too many rumors about her sexuality circulating throughout the school and she hadn't yet decided what she was going to do about them. For the time being, Santana was trying to pretend they didn't exist so she wouldn't have to deal with it all. But hanging out with a very open lesbian was sure to push the issue further and force her to come to terms with…_everything—_lesbianism, Brittany, coming out, Brittany, her parents, Brittany. Santana _should_ have been worried and now that someone had called Landon out (so to speak) she _should_ have wanted to keep her distance.

At that moment, however, with Landon standing tall and sure and shooting her a disarming half-grin, Santana just couldn't bring herself to give a damn. Landon was all kinds of badass and Santana couldn't stop herself from wanting to know more about the girl.

She took a breath, soaked in the other girl's confidence and surety and simply shook her head. "Nah, it's cool."

"Come on then," Landon pulled her forward. "I don't want to be late for weightlifting. These guns don't maintain themselves, you know."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

After classes, the McKinley Titans hit the field for the last practice before Saturday's game. It was a full pads practice and Coach Bieste and the sun were unrelenting. Several Titans were laid out on the field, struggling to keep from vomiting.

But Landon loved all of it. The weight of the pads on her shoulders. The rough skin of the football in her hands. The burn of her legs and lungs as she sprinted down field. The bruising hits both given and received. No one pulled any punches with her. In fact, after her first catch and end zone run, they seemed to go after her harder, jockeying to show her up. And Landon thrived under the challenge. She took the hits and (illegal) trips, brushed herself off and lined up again. And again. And again.

Coach hadn't told her if she'd see playing time tomorrow and Landon was determined to make a positive impression. With Finn at quarterback, Bieste had Landon practicing both wide receiver and cornerback positions. She was fast and had soft hands. At wide receiver, her speed allowed her to adjust quickly to Finn's under- or over-thrown passes. As a cornerback, her experience allowed her to read the quarterback's intent in his hips, shoulders, and eyes, and so her anticipation was extraordinary.

While Landon preferred quarterback, and in fact as good as she was in the other positions she was even better at quarterback, she was determined to get on the field somehow. She wouldn't complain; she'd fill any position Bieste asked her to fill; hell, she teach herself to kick the damn ball if it got her playing time. Landon was a football player. She wanted to compete. To test herself physically, mentally, and emotionally. She wanted to hit someone. Hard.

Two sharp whistles cut across the field and everything came to a stop. "Alright, good effort guys! Hydrate up and hit the showers. Remember, no booze, no sex, no skateboarding, motorcycling or fight club till after Saturday's game." She looked at them pointedly before releasing them. "Now get outta here," she said more jovially.

She turned to Landon, "Riff, my office after showers."

Landon took her helmet off, nodded once and jogged off the field. She was nervous but held her shoulders square. Weakness was never to be shown on the field.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

A light knocking pulled Bieste away from the playbook she was reviewing. Looking up, she saw Landon filling her doorway. "Come in. Take a seat."

Landon did as she was told, looking at the coach expectantly from across the cluttered desk. Bieste sighed and rubbed her forehead before proceeding, "so, Riff, tell me how it's been fitting in with the team. They treating you alright?"

"Yes, Coach," answered simply.

Bieste let out another sigh. "I need more than that, Riff. Look, nothing leaves this office, but I need you to be honest with me. How are you getting along? Are they giving you a hard time? Are they including you in the team?"

Landon was thoughtful. She reflected on the week's practice before answering as honestly as she could. She would not complain. She'd do her job. "We do what we're told, Coach. We run the plays you tell us to run. No one's been dicking with me on field. We do what we're told," she repeated.

"And off field?"

"We don't really socialize off field, Coach," she shrugged honestly. "Some of the guys are in glee but we don't talk much." Landon leaned forward, resting her forearms on her thighs. "Look, Coach, you can count on me to do my job. I'm glad I'm on the team. You don't have to worry about me starting something with anyone."

Bieste waved her off. "It's not about that. Look, Riff, I think you know by now how good you are out there. You're one of the best players we have and I'm happy to have you on the team."

"Thanks, Coach."

"But to be quarterback," Bieste continued, "you need to be a leader, and while I have no doubt you possess leadership skills, I am less sure how the rest of the team will take to your direction. Without the trust of the team, it doesn't matter how well you throw a football."

She paused and Landon could see that the coach didn't like what she was about to say. "I need you to start making an effort to engage the team more. They need to respect your role on the field and I don't think they will until they get to know you. Quite frankly, you intimidate them. They know you're good and it makes them question their own abilities. They need to see you as a fellow classmate struggling to get through whatever teenagers go through. They need to see you be a-"

"Girl?" Landon shot back, the anger and resentment she tried to hold in tumbling out some.

"A regular kid. Look, I know what you're going through, trust me I do. And what I'm asking isn't fair. Do you have to try harder? Yes. Do you have to be 10 times better than anyone of them just to be taken seriously? Yes. It isn't fair but it is what it is. If you want to be quarterback, you need to let them in. They need to be on your side. I'm not saying you need to change who you are. I'm just asking you to let them get to know you off field. They need to trust and respect you and right now, they don't. They just fear you."

Landon leaned back and ran her hands through her hair. How the hell was she supposed to befriend a bunch of immature jocks who couldn't get past the tits and long hair and see her as just another teammate?

"I'm going to talk to Finn too," Bieste continued. "He knows we need you and a cohesive team, and he can help put in a good word for you with the rest of the guys."

_Great_, Landon thought. Finn was really going to smooth things over with the guys just so she could come in and take his job. Like that was going to happen.

"Thanks, Coach, but I'd rather do this on my own. You're right. I need to work harder just to be taken seriously. The team's never gonna respect me if I have to have Finn come in and fight my battles." She sighed. "I have to do this on my own. And I'll try harder to become part of the team."

"I know what I'm asking, Landon. I know it isn't easy. " Coach stuck out her hand and dismissed Landon with a firm handshake. "Thank you for understanding."

Landon got up and turned to leave. "Coach?" she asked before heading out the door. "Am I getting on the field tomorrow?"

Bieste leaned back in her chair and looked Landon in the eye. "I'm starting with those who got us States." Landon nodded dejectedly before straightening up and squaring her shoulders. Bieste liked the resolve of the girl. "We'll see how the game goes from there. No promises."

"Thanks Coach," Landon replied before leaving the office.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Landon made her way home in her 10-year-old pickup reviewing her conversation with Bieste. Well, she had that glee gathering that night. That was a start. At least she could try getting to know Puck and Artie and, ugh, Finn. Landon knew she needed to get him on her side, but Finn just rubbed her the wrong way. Coach had already declared him quarterback yet he still stalked around the field like a petulant child. He acted like a punk around her and it pissed her off because he was the one who had what _she_ wanted. She didn't know what he had to be so upset about.

She pulled into a trailer park on the outskirts of Lima and drove up to the cramped little trailer that she shared with her Aunt Ginny.

Landon had a small room in the back with a single window that looked out onto her truck. She'd been there less than a month and didn't really bother settling in. This was her fourth move, fourth relative, in three years and she didn't know how long it would last with Ginny. The trailer wasn't a place she wanted put roots down in anyway.

Looking at her watch she saw that it was after 5. She had to hustle and change if she wanted to be on time for Rachel's karaoke-bowling extravaganza. She decided to dress up a little and put on dark denim jeans that hugged her ass and a black long-sleeved shirt with pale gray pinstripes. An eagle was embroidered in gray on the right shoulder of the button shirt and decorative lines crisscrossed across the back shoulders. She rolled her sleeves up just below her elbows and slapped on a thick, black leather cuff on her right wrist. Her hair was already pulled up into a ponytail and after lacing up a weathered pair of dark combat-style boots, she headed out.

She didn't bother leaving a note for Ginny. She didn't think the older woman knew the teenager lived there half the time.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"You're here! And right on time!" Rachel rushed over to Landon and took her hands excitedly. "Let's go get your shoes before we join the others!"

With a pair of white and green bowling shoes in hand, Landon was pulled over to a lane where Artie, Mercedes, Finn, and Kurt were already seated.

"Hi guys," Landon waved lightly and sat down to change her shoes.

Bowling was fun enough. They broke into teams—Rachel, Finn, and Mercedes on one team, Kurt, Artie and Landon on the other. Puck joined them half an hour in and just floated between the two teams.

Landon was surprised by how much fun she was having. With the exception of Finn, who continued to simply squint at her from a distance, everyone welcomed her warmly and she found herself chatting about everything and nothing as the game progressed.

She was particularly surprised by how well she and Puck got along. They bonded over their gaming obsessions and their love of the ladies. At some point they made a rather dubious wager regarding who could score the most numbers in a 24-hour period.

It earned Puck a cuff against the back of his head from Rachel who reminded the mohawked boy about his rather hot-headed girlfriend. "Hey! We're just getting numbers. We're not going to act on them!" he assured her.

"Well," Landon jumped in, "_he's _not going to act on them." She smirked and Puck high-fived her.

"Get it, girl!" he replied.

Kurt plopped down next to Landon. "You know, it's going to be nice having another out kid at McKinely. I doubt you'll experience the outright bullying I went through considering your rather impressive," he squeezed her bicep gently, "physique, but if you do have issues, I'm here to talk." He smiled shyly.

Landon returned the grin. "So it was tough for you?" she inquired.

Kurt sighed. "Yea, it was. Slushie facials, being thrown into lockers and trashcans. It was awful. But the overt bullying has toned down a lot after Santana's Bullywhips club, and while I don't delude myself into thinking everything's changed and suddenly McKinely's super tolerant and accepting of gays, it is better. There was this whole Prom Queen thing, but even that has blown over."

"What's the Bullywhips?"

"Oh, it's a club that patrols the halls and intervenes when they see bullying. Santana started it last year with David Karofsky. It's made quite the difference from a physical safety standpoint."

"Santana, huh? You don't say?" Landon was intrigued.

"Yea, _that_ was a surprise."

Before Landon could ask anything further, Mercedes called out to her. "Landon, you're up!"

Landon stood and retrieved her ball. She turned back to Kurt before heading to the lane. "Kurt, let me know if anyone gives you a hard time, okay?" She flexed and smirked. "These aren't just for show, you know?"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

It was no surprise that Rachel's team ended up winning as Artie couldn't really get his body into his throw and Kurt simply flung the ball down the lane without putting his fingers in the holes. Something about ruining his manicure. Landon bowled commendably but as she was trying to be less intimidating to her peers she reined in her natural athleticism some.

It was 7:30 by the time the group decided to return their bowling shoes and get their karaoke on.

Rachel sat down excitedly next to Landon. The group occupied a large rectangular table in front of a small stage. "Finn has just informed me that you are on the football team and I must say I am extremely happy to see you strike a feminist blow against the patriarchal paragon that is high school sports, particularly the hyper-masculine boys club of football! I hope your presence on the team brings a much needed female sensibility to the sport and demonstrates to the more barbaric members of the team that women can indeed do anything and should be treated with respect and dignity." She took a breath.

"Uh, thanks?"

"You know, Tina, Lauren and I had our own little stint on the team and I can't help but feel that our contribution has paved the way for you. So, you're welcome!" She smiled broadly. "And in honor of your newfound role I have chosen a song that combines the competitive spirit of team sports with the female empowerment and unbridled energy of girl rock. Pat Benatar's iconic 'Love is a Battlefield.' Yay!" She clapped excitedly then scurried away to hand her selection to the karaoke mc.

Landon released a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

"Wow," she whispered.

"Yea," Mercedes replied, settling into the seat Rachel vacated. "Rachel can be a bit much at times." She chuckled. "So you gonna treat us to another turn at the mic, sexy lady?"

Before Landon could answer, the tall girl spotted Santana and Brittany walking over toward them. She smiled at the pair and leaned back casually in her seat.

"Move it, Wheezy," Santana directed at Mercedes, smiling slightly to soften the heat of the statement. Mercedes rolled her eyes and went with Kurt to retrieve more chairs. Santana settled in next to Landon with Brittany next to her.

"Fashionably late, I see," Landon teased.

"Please, Berry's lucky I'm out on a Friday night before 10."

Landon smirked. She turned her attention to the quiet blonde next to Santana. Brittany had her head bent into a karaoke songbook. "Hey Brittany. You look really nice tonight," Landon offered.

"Totally," Brittany responded, her eyes never leaving the pages of the book.

"I'm pretty nervous about the whole karaoke thing. You wanna sing something with me?" Landon tried again. It was obvious that Santana and Brittany were a pair and Landon really wanted the blonde to like her.

"Not really," Brittany shrugged without meeting the other girl's eyes.

Landon sighed. She knew when to cut her losses. "Okay, well, what about you," she nudged Santana's shoulder with her own. "Sing something with me?"

"You know," Santana sat back smugly, "you're gonna have to do this on your own eventually. Can't have me bailing you out all the time." Brittany rolled her eyes at the banter.

Landon chuckled, "just one more time then."

Santana shrugged, "whatever. What did you want to sing?"

Landon pointed out the song she wanted.

"That's not even a duet," Santana laughed.

"So what. I'll take the first verse and chorus, you take the second, we harmonize on the rest. Simple."

"Whatever," Santana smiled at her while maintaining her badassedness.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Brittany perked up as the night wore on. She wasn't going to let some new girl prevent her from having fun with _her_ friends. When Rachel started "Love is a Battlefield," she clapped excitedly and rolled Artie up to the small dance floor in front of the stage. She whipped her hair around, pumped her fists, and rolled around on Artie's lap.

Santana smiled sadly at the two. She knew they were no longer dating but it didn't make her heart hurt any less seeing them so happy and carefree together. It reminded her of a time when she believed she and Brittany were that effortless and easy. A time before feelings and tear-filled declarations of love. Before heart-rending rejections on both sides.

Landon touched her wrist resting on the table between them. "So," she dragged Santana's attention from the spinning pair, "everyone seems to be enjoying themselves." Landon nodded toward the stage and where Kurt and Mercedes had joined Brittany and Artie. Even Finn and Puck were rocking out in their seats at the far end of the table. "So why do you look like you lost your best friend?" Landon smiled gently at her.

Santana straightened in her seat and set a confident smirk on her face. She ignored the second half of Landon's query. "Please, it doesn't take much to entertain this bunch. I bet most of their Fridays are spent putting on mock plays in front of a bunch of stuffed animals or some other lame shit like that. I have higher standards."

"That so? Tell me about it. What keeps Santana Lopez," Landon paused, "entertained?"

Santana could hear the suggestiveness in the question. Surprisingly it didn't unnerve her. A girl overtly flirting with her in public (which she was almost positive Landon was doing) should have triggered some kind of panic and defensiveness. She should have stopped it cold with a string of Spanish expletives and physical threats. She should have went all Lima Heights Adjacent on her.

But she didn't. Just like in the hallway earlier that day, all Santana felt was curiosity and anticipation.

Something about Landon was comforting and calming. Maybe it was the way the girl held herself. She seemed so confident. So solid. Santana had to remind herself that Landon was just a teenager. She seemed older. Mature. Like she had the world figured out and she didn't give a shit about all the trivial bullshit that occupied too much of Santana's mind. It was reassuring to Santana. To see someone stand so strong against the world.

Before Santana could respond, however, she felt someone pull at her shoulder. "San," Brittany called, sliding her hand down the girl's arm to take her hand. "Come dance with me."

Mercedes had taken over the stage, breaking out some upbeat Destiny's Child. Santana huffed dramatically but smiled up at the blonde. Brittany had been in a funk lately and Santana was happy to see the spark return to her bright blue eyes. She couldn't resist the blonde's request. She never could. She shrugged at Landon before letting herself get dragged onto the dance floor, her hand held firmly in Brittany's.

Once on the dance floor, Brittany pulled Santana to her tightly by the waist, facing the smiling brunette. She ran her hands up the other girl's body, moving their hips to the beat of the music. It was something they did a hundred times, but tonight there was an urgency and possessiveness in the blonde's movements. In that moment, Brittany wanted her hands to brand Santana, to illuminate and reinforce the bond they shared. The new girl brought out unfamiliar feelings in her. Feelings that made her fists clench and her stomach churn. Feelings that made her want to hold Santana even tighter. She dug her fingernails into Santana's sides. Landon was a stranger. And Brittany was going to make sure Landon understood that no matter how well she got to know Santana, she would never be this close, never know her this well.

Santana turned in her arms and Brittany ran her hands across the smaller girl's stomach, pressing her front flush against the brunette's back. She skimmed her nose up Santana's neck, burying it in soft, dark hair. She breathed softly against Santana's ear and grinned at the shiver it induced.

Santana pulled away surprised. She turned slightly in the girl's arms, her brows furrowing in confusion. The blonde's actions were bold, suggestive, even for them. Brittany simply whipped her head around, long blonde hair temporarily blinding Santana. The brunette laughed loudly at her friend's antics, enjoying the fun the dancer seemed to be having. She loved the feel of Brittany against her. Even as her body tingled at each touch, Santana felt safe and protected in the embrace. She reveled in the knowledge that no matter what happened between them, no matter what was happening between them, Brittany wanted to be near her. Always.

Landon's gaze followed the pair with interest. She smiled sadly to herself as she watched the tall blonde lay claim to Santana's body. Brittany's unwarranted dislike of her started to make more sense. Of course someone as hot and fierce as Santana would be taken. Landon didn't understand why they hadn't mentioned it before. She wasn't a homewrecker. She wouldn't have been as forward with Santana if she knew she was already involved.

Landon leaned back and sighed. Santana was beautiful and fiery. She gave as good as she got and didn't pull any punches. Landon liked the fight in the girl. She felt like it could match her own and Landon found that rare in the high school girls she met. On the other hand, there was also something soft and vulnerable in those deep brown eyes that drew Landon in, made her want to know who Santana was, what she was fighting for, what she was driven towards.

She sighed and threw her long legs up on the edge of the table, crossing them at the ankles. Landon watched the two girls laugh and frolic and hold each other close. She crossed her arms behind her head and resigned herself to the friend zone.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Does this signal the end of Lantana? Stick around and find out! And please let me know what you think!**


	8. Chapter 7 Part II

**A/N: Wow, I'm truly amazed at all the Lantana love! I was worried people wouldn't stick with the story because I'm kinda messing with Brittana. I'm also loving all the alerts and especially the reviews. It's so great to hear what y'all think and respond to. **

**So since I had to break up the karaoke-bowling extravaganza, you're getting a short little update much sooner than usual. It might get a little fluffy at the end, but hopefully you enjoy it. **

**Just a heads up, I know song fics aren't everyone's cup of tea. And I too am guilty of scrolling past lyrics to get back to the story. However, I encourage you to read at least Santana's verse and the chorus. They give me mucho Brittana feelings. :) **

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. Not the show and not the song, which is OneRepublic's "All This Time."

Chapter Seven Part II

"Landon and Santana" the karaoke mc called, alerting them that they were next up.

"Hey, if you don't want to do the song with me, I can always go solo. It's not really a duet anyway," Landon offered. After seeing the two girls together, she decided to back off and hopefully forge a friendship with the both of them.

"Why? Afraid of being outshined again?" Santana teased.

Landon laughed. "Well I don't want to cause tension or anything," she responded vaguely.

"What tension?" Santana was genuinely confused.

"Landon and Santana, you're up!"

Landon huffed. "No backing out now, I guess," she replied sheepishly. "Let's hit it!"

They settled onto two stools at the edge of the stage. As Landon started the first verse, Santana looked out at her friends, zeroing in as she often did on Brittany. The lithe dancer fiddled with her hands on the table. She looked so small and withdrawn. It wasn't a look Santana saw often and she hated every moment that brought it out.

Santana was worried about the blonde. Brittany had been moody and introverted lately. She had come back from vacation her bubbly, perky self, but this past week saw Brittany falling into long stretches of reflective silence. Santana was afraid that in her silences Brittany was contemplating their relationship and that the uneasiness she saw in the blonde foretold bad things for them.

What didn't make sense, however, was that Brittany's moodiness didn't seem to occur when it was just the two of them. When they were alone, Brittany didn't seem stressed or reserved. She laughed freely. Pulled Santana into impromptu dances and cheers. Held Santana close, brushing stray locks of hair off the brunette's face, smiling at her softly, clearly, surely.

It was only during glee or in group events that Brittany seemed to fold into herself. Where her back stiffened and her eyes clouded and something Santana would have labeled anger if she saw it in anyone other than Brittany seemed to bubble up within the blonde.

Suddenly Landon's comment about tension came back to her. Why would singing with the other girl cause tension? Santana mentally reviewed the lyrics of the song before shifting uneasily. It was romantic, beautiful even, particularly when turned into a duet. She looked at Brittany who was worrying the edges of a napkin in her hands, biting her bottom lip. Santana swallowed. Maybe this wasn't the best song to sing with Landon. She gripped the mic stand tightly, hoping the physical activity would steady her nerves.

Landon reached the first chorus, turning to Santana as she sang.

_All this time we were waiting for each other_

_All this time I was waiting for you_

_We got all these words can't waste them on another_

_So I'm straight in a straight line coming back to you_

Santana swallowed hard before beginning her verse.

_I don't know what day it is; I had to check the paper_

_I don't know the city, but it isn't home_

_But you say I'm lucky to love something that loves me_

_But I'm torn as I could be wherever I roam_

Santana didn't know where to look. She oscillated between Landon and Brittany, not terribly comfortable lingering on either for too long. But as the chorus repeated and her voice filled the small room, she couldn't help but catch Brittany's gaze.

_All this time we were waiting for each other_

_All this time I was waiting for you_

_We got all these words can't waste them on another_

_So I'm straight in a straight line coming back to you_

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

When their song ended, Landon pulled Santana to the side to talk with her quietly. "Hey, I wanted to apologize for being so forward with you earlier. I didn't realize you and Brittany were together. I promise I'm not someone who goes after other people's women."

Santana pulled back abruptly. Her chest tightened at the admission and all the panic she should have felt at Landon's flirting erupted full force once her relationship with Brittany was brought into the mix. "What the hell are you talking about?" she pulled away from Landon's light touch on her shoulder. She could barely hear the other girl over the rushing of blood in her ears, and she had to fist her hands to keep them from shaking.

Landon was taken aback by the sudden anger and tried to calm Santana. She raised her hands in a placating gesture. "I just didn't want you thinking I was some kind of jerk who went around messing with other people's relationships. You guys make a great couple. I didn't mean to get between you or anything."

"Wait," she raised a hand at Landon, "Brittany and I aren't like that. We're friends." At Landon's raised eyebrow she continued, "best friends. That's all."

"O-kay," Landon dragged out. "Does _she_ know that?" She nodded towards Brittany who was watching the pair with dark, cloudy eyes, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

Santana went on the offensive as she often did when she felt cornered. "Look," she pushed a finger roughly into Landon's chest. "I don't know what you _think_ you know about me and Britt, but let me assure you, you know shit about us. Why don't you do all of us a favor and mind your own fucking business." She turned on her heel before the other girl could respond.

"_Santana_."

Her name from the Landon's lips caused her to stumble slightly. Landon never used her first name alone. It made Santana flush, but it was all too much for her. She brushed Landon's outstretched hand aside and fled.

Santana was pissed. Well, she was scared which, as it often did, manifested itself as being pissed. She blew past the table and stormed outside. She felt like she was suffocating and she needed to get far away from Landon and all of her insinuations. _What did Landon know? How did she figure it out? What the hell was the "it" she figured out, anyway?_ It was overwhelming.

"The fuck?" was all Landon could say. How had she gotten it so wrong? Now she was even more confused than before. If Brittany and Santana weren't an item, why did the blonde look like she wanted to scratch Landon's eyes out every time she spoke to Santana? Landon shook her head and made her way back to the table, making sure to sit a few seats from where Santana and Brittany were sitting earlier to give them some space. _Fucking girls_, she mused. Sometimes she didn't know why she bothered. Then she caught sight of a rather buxom waitress in a tight mini skirt across the room and remembered.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

After Landon and Santana's duet and a Springsteen number from Puck, the group decided to take a break and get some grub. Santana had returned to the table after cooling off but wouldn't meet Landon's eyes. As the group decided how many pizzas to share and what toppings they wanted, Santana sulked and sipped her diet coke quietly.

Unfortunately for Landon, in her effort the give the brunette space, she had inadvertently taken a seat next to Rachel and Finn. She sighed as the other girl chattered away about something Landon couldn't bring herself to care about. It wasn't until a plastic container with gray liquid sloshing within it was shoved in her face that she caught up with what Rachel was going on about.

"So do you want to share a green salad with me and Finn? I brought my own vegan dressing that's super healthy and will be sure to give you that extra boost you need for tomorrow's game."

"Oh, well, that's okay. Thanks though. I kinda eat a lot so I should probably just order for myself. Growing girl and all that." She patted her flat stomach and gave Rachel a half grin.

Finn snorted, "yeah right. Way to be part of the group. Can't even eat with us," he muttered.

"I wasn't trying to be disrespectful. I'll probably eat way more than all of you and I didn't want you to have to pay extra for me. It's called being courteous." God, Finn pissed her off! She waved the busty waitress over.

"It's not like we don't eat a lot either. You always gotta make yourself stand out. Like you're someone so special!" Rachel tried to place a calming hand on Finn's arm but she really didn't know what was going on so she didn't know how best to fix things.

The waitress sidled up to Landon who gave her a wide, charming smile. "An extra large with everything. Thanks, beautiful." She handed the menu back to the waitress who winked slyly at her.

"You're going to eat an extra large pizza by yourself!" Kurt had been following the exchange surreptitiously and his eyes went wide at Landon's order.

"No way," Finn quickly dismissed the idea. "There's no way in hell you can finish that on your own." He scoffed, "maybe Puck and I could do it, but you? No way."

"You know what, Finn," Landon couldn't take it anymore and she slammed her hands against the table. Between her fight with Santana and his fucking pouting all night she had had enough. She knew she promised Bieste she'd make more of an effort fitting in with the team and Finn was a large part of that team, but she couldn't take anymore of his attitude. "Put up or shut the fuck up."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means I buy you and Puck an identical pie and we see who finishes first," she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back, "or at all."

"Hey man, leave me out of it," Puck chimed in. He knew better than to get involved in whatever pissing contest his two teammates were engaging in. Besides, he liked Landon. She was like a dude. A cool dude with amazing tits and a nice ass. He could totally get down with that.

"I feel the need to interject here," Rachel placed one hand on each of their forearms. "I do not think it's in anybody's best interest to engage in a food-eating competition the night before your big game. Furthermore, this will do nothing to bring the team together and as we all know we need to be project a unified front if we're to-"

"Oh shut it, Berry. If these Neanderthals want to eat themselves sick in some kind of mine's-bigger-than-yours-is ego-off, I say let 'em. I gots 20 bucks on Landon," Santana threw a 20 in the middle of the table.

"Oh, it's on, peeps!" Artie piped up, taking Santana's money and collecting wagers from the rest of the club.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"I really don't think this is a good idea," Rachel tried one last time, staring at the mammoth pizzas in front of Finn and Landon.

"Okay," Puck squatted between the two competitors. "You gotta eat the whole slice, crust and all, including whatever toppings fall off. You can drink whatever you like but no bathroom breaks until the competition's over. Vomiting is an automatic disqualification. Are we ready?" He turned to look at each of them and seeing their nods shouted, "go!"

Landon picked up her first slice, folding it in half, and setting a quick but steady pace. She knew she had about 20 minutes before her stomach would start registering fullness but she didn't want to make a pig of herself either. That, apparently, wasn't something that concerned Finn who stuffed his face to bursting before trying to chew it all down and swallow.

Truth be told, when Landon ordered her pizza she didn't intend on eating the whole thing that night. She thought she'd eat half and take the other half home. Ginny rarely kept food in the trailer and Landon wanted to have something for morning. It was too late now, however. She had laid down the gauntlet and she'd be damned if she was going to let _Finn Hudson_ best her.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

At the 30-minute mark they'd both consumed more than half their pizzas. Landon had a slight lead on Finn with 3 slices to his 4 slices remaining.

Landon held a confident posture and continued to chew slowly and deliberately. Outwardly, she projected nonchalance, an "ain't no thing" attitude that she hoped intimidated Finn. Only a slight paleness to her normally bronze cheeks suggested any discomfort. Internally, however, she was a mess. Her stomach rolled with every bite, and every time she breathed in the spicy smell of sauce, sausage, and onions, she swallowed forcibly, willing herself to keep from puking on the spot. The only thing that kept her together was the knowledge that Finn looked a hundred times worse.

Finn had a glassy look to his eyes and his face was covered in sauce and cheese. He swayed slightly as he lifted another piece to his mouth before pausing, belching long and slow.

"Okay, I think this has gone on long enough. Let's call it a draw, okay," Rachel begged.

"No way. If Finn quits it's Landon's win. She's a whole slice ahead of him," Mercedes countered, protecting her investment in the new girl.

"I got this. I got this," Finn muttered quietly. He folded the piece he was holding and shoved as much of it as he could into his mouth. Bad move.

"Uh-oh," Kurt warned before Finn leapt from his seat, pizza falling haphazardly to the floor, and ran from the table, his hands covering his mouth.

"Disqualified!" Puck shouted, pulling Landon's arm up in victory.

Landon chucked the napkin she was holding onto the table, leaned back and crossed her arms behind her head. Her gleemates slapped her on the back and shook her shoulders playfully, making her stomach rumble. "Well," she began slowly and she hoped a little smugly, "now that that's over. Nature calls." She stood and tried to swagger to the ladies room. She knew she only had about 30 seconds before she upchucked all over the floor, but she wouldn't run.

Once in the safety of the ladies' room stall, she let loose, heaving violently until an acid stomach and burning throat was all that was left of her first victory over Finn Hudson.

When she exited the stall, Landon was surprised to see Santana leaning casually against the opposite wall. She flushed a little, embarrassed that the other girl had caught her rather undignified hurling. She brushed past Santana to get to the sink to wash her face and hands. "Um," Landon started but she couldn't think of what else to say.

"Here," Santana offered, shoving a fistful of money into the tall girl's chest.

"What's this?" Landon questioned, drying her hands with a wad of paper towels.

"It's your winnings."

"But I didn't bet anything."

Santana sighed. "Just take it," she said, annoyed.

Landon took the money, clutching Santana's hand in the process. "Santana, about earlier-"

"Forget about it," Santana replied, pulling her hand away and leaving a frustrated Landon behind once again.

_Fucking girls._

**A/N: Well there it is; another Rachel Berry party ending in massive hurling. :) **

**Just a warning, it'll be a bit before I can update again. Usually I have the next chapter started before I post the previous one, but I wanted to get this out since it really isn't a full chapter on its own and I didn't want to keep you guys waiting for the end of the party. **

**If you have the chance, please take a moment to review and let me know what you think. I'm always open to suggestions and the reviews are really inspiring and motivating. Thanks all!**

**P.S. I love Jealous!Brittany too! It's a tie between what I love more, actually. Lantana or Jealous!Brittany. Luckily, I don't have to choose. :) **


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thank you all for the wonderful reviews and all of the alerts! I love hearing what you all think. So drop me a line and review if you get the chance.**

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything.

Chapter Eight

It was the night of the McKinley High's first home game and Brittany could barely contain her excitement. She bounced around the house practicing her cheers and dragging Santana into playful little dances, making the brunette laugh and bounce along with her.

After Brittany almost knocked over a lamp with a high kick, Santana finally decided to get her girl to the game even though they'd be early and Santana usually didn't do early. But Brittany had way too much energy and Santana hoped the expansive stadium would give the blonde girl a large enough space to express herself without harm.

A short set of stairs led to their seats in the first row. Santana was happy with their position. Not because it provided the best view of the field—she really couldn't care less about the game now that she was off the Cheerios and the Titans record didn't matter. She claimed to like the first row because she could prop her legs up on the railing and stretch out. Truthfully, though, it was so Brittany wouldn't have to be uncomfortable and squish her long legs behind some doof all night.

She was pretty sure they were going to piss off everyone behind them, though. Brittany had written and choreographed a total of six cheers, each requiring the girls to jump out of their seats and shake about, and knowing Brittany, she was going to bust them out whenever _she_ felt like it, regardless of what was happening on the field.

Santana shrugged. _Fuck 'em_.

Once they settled in, Brittany jumped up quickly. "Gotta pee. Want anything from the concessions while I'm up?" She bounced up and down at an increasingly fast rate.

"Nah. I'm good. Thanks, B."

Once Brittany was out of sight, Santana turned to watch the Titans pre-game prep. Some stretched. Some tossed footballs around. She could see Finn in deep conversation with Bieste. With most of the team in pads and helmets, she couldn't really make out the one player she tried to tell herself she wasn't looking for.

Then a bullet of a football was hurled across the field, landing forcefully in the chest of a waiting receiver, catching her attention. "Whoa."

Santana watched number 8 throw another bomb downfield before the jock took her helmet off and shook out her long, dark hair. _Landon_. Santana's breath caught. In pads and form-fitting jersey, Landon was stunning. She couldn't believe she hadn't spotted the girl right off. That body definitely did not belong to a dude. Landon's long legs were on clear display, and the way the leggings hugged the tall girl's ass made Santana swallow hard. She was curvy and hard, broad and slender in all the right places. There could definitely be some perks to this football thing.

Landon pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail, dropping her helmet momentarily before picking it up and holding it at her side. After a moment, the receiver, Puck, jogged over and clasped her hand roughly, pulling their chests together in a friendly bump. When they separated, Landon shoved him away lightheartedly, laughing at the mohawked boy when he wagged his eyebrows and nodded over to the cheerleaders stretching on the sidelines. She scanned the field, her eyes lifting up into the stadium until she saw her. She tapped Puck on the chest a final time and, helmet in hand, jogged over to the bleachers.

Santana hands were sweating. She tried to rub them on her jeans discreetly before the jock approached.

"Hey," Landon said quietly. She reached a hand up to grab one of the bars of the railing that separated them. With the raised platform, she had to look up to meet Santana's gaze. "Glad you made it."

Santana stood and leaned her forearms against the rail. She nodded simply.

"We okay?" the tall jock asked.

Santana sighed, "yea, we're good." She looked down and got caught in the other girl's glittering eyes.

Landon moved her hand slightly, brushing the side of her pinky against Santana's forearm. They stared at each other for a long moment before Santana had to turn away.

"So you getting in the game tonight?"

Landon sighed and shook her head, "I don't know." She turned her back to lean against the railing and look out onto the field.

"Why? You're really good."

Landon blushed at the compliment. "Bieste's going with last year's starters. So I _might_ see some play if we're either way ahead or way behind. Sucks." She turned to look at Santana over her shoulder. "How do you know I'm good anyway?"

It was Santana's turn to blush. "Just saw you tossing the ball around with Puck."

"That so?" Landon smirked. "Checking me out, huh?" she asked with a wink.

Santana just shook her head at the girl. She was so fucking charming. "You got a good arm. Much better than Finn, anyway."

"Yea, well, not my call. But I'm working on it." A long, loud whistle caught the jock's attention. "I better go. Enjoy the game." Landon smiled shyly.

"You too." Santana laughed lightly. "I mean you've got a great seat to watch the game if you're riding the bench the whole time."

"Funny," Landon deadpanned. She brushed her finger a final time against Santana's arm before jogging back onto the field to join her teammates. "Later, Lopez."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

As she suspected, Landon spent the entire game on the sidelines. She twitched at every overthrown pass and dropped ball, white-knuckling the helmet at her side in frustration. The game was tight and Coach kept the first string on. When Finn missed the receiver again, it took all of Landon's willpower not to run over to Bieste and beg her to put her in. But Landon wouldn't complain or second guess. She'd do her job. Whatever was asked.

A last minute touchdown gave the Titans a 13-7 victory and Landon celebrated with the team. She wouldn't complain.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Santana hated Mondays. It signaled another long week of posturing, of playing stupid social games, of Rachel fucking Berry. It was only Brittany's enthusiastic chattering next to her that calmed her nerves. When she opened her locker, a piece of paper flittered out, landing at her feet. She retrieved it and read the simple note before folding it up quickly and shoving it in her pocket, hoping Brittany hadn't seen it.

_Meet me in the girls' locker at lunch._

_- L_

Luckily, the blonde was too engrossed in planning the next Fondue for Two to notice.

Santana was conflicted. She didn't know where she stood or what she wanted from either girl.

Brittany had been her only desire for as long as she could remember desiring anything. And she thought confessing her love for the beautiful girl would suddenly bring clarity to her life. She had been wholly unprepared for Brittany's rejection. And as gentle as Brittany had tried to be with her, she wasn't equipped to handle the bone-aching hurt. Truthfully, a part of Santana had never recovered from that moment. In quiet hours, the scene ran on a loop in her head, making her chest constrict just as it did the first time. Everything about that moment reaffirmed her deepest fear. That she just wasn't good enough for Brittany. Even after all they'd been through and shared, she wasn't enough.

When Brittany and Artie broke up, Santana pieced her broken heart together and tried again, but Brittany needed more from her. _Deserved_ more from her. It wasn't enough that she had Santana's heart in private moments. Brittany wanted all of Santana all the time, and that meant no more hiding, particularly from herself. And Santana _tried_. She swore she did. She wanted to give Brittany everything she needed. But her bruised and insecure heart wasn't ready. And looking into those pleading blue eyes only broke her further.

Now there was this new, unexpected variable. Landon. It was _so_ easy to be around the jock. To let the other girl flirt and wink and lead whatever dance they were (or had been) tentatively exploring. It was effortless with Landon. The charming athlete didn't look at her with expectations in her eyes—with the pain of broken promises flitting behind her irises. She simply took what Santana could give, and there was no history of rejection and disappointment to overcome.

Landon made it easy for Santana. And what Santana wanted more than anything right now was for something in her life to be easy.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Santana turned the corner around a set of lockers to find Landon dressed in a sports bra and a pair of tight-fitting men's boxer briefs, towel-dried hair falling haphazardly around her shoulders.

"Men's boxers, really?" she chuckled. Landon turned toward the sound, smiling broadly when she saw Santana leaning causally against a locker. "Are you like trying to fulfill every lesbian stereotype?"

"Hey, I told you there wasn't a closet big enough for me," Landon spread her arms wide. "I'm like the dyke poster child," she said proudly before pausing briefly to pull on a pair of weathered jeans ripped at the knees and back pockets. "Actually, I have this irrational fear..." she trailed off and blushed. _Did she really just let that out?_

"What irrational fear?" Santana was amused. "Mutant panties?"

"Oh you're hilarious," she responded sarcastically. "Okay, don't laugh," the tall girl pointed a finger at Santana and tried giving her a stern look before smiling sheepishly. "I have this fear that I'm going to end up in public without pants on and I'd much rather be stuck in boxers than have my bare ass hanging out of some lacy thong. I mean, boxers are like shorts so I wouldn't feel that exposed, you know?"

Santana stared at the girl for a moment before breaking out laughing. Landon pulled on a Metallica shirt and turned to lean against a locker. She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot. "Are you about done now?"

"How would you find yourself in public with no pants on?" Santana breathed through her laughter.

"That's just it! You can't prepare for stuff like that! Like, what if there's an accident and I have to use my pants to make a tourniquet, or-. Okay, you're having way too much fun here."

Santana couldn't help it. That was the most ridiculous thing she ever heard! She wiped at the tears building up in the corner of her eyes. "Okay, first off, people don't generally make tourniquets out of whole pairs of pants. Haven't you ever seen 'I Shouldn't Be Alive'? Secondly, like, how likely is that? I mean have you ever, even _once_ found yourself in public in your underwear?"

Landon's eyes flickered before she looked down at her still bare feet. Santana could see her fighting a small grin and she gasped. "Oh my God, you so have! Okay, spill. What was this great pants-less event?" She smirked.

"Okay, I _may_ have been chased out of a girl's house and had to run home in my underwear." She paused, sitting down to put on her shoes. "Twice. Two different girls though." She shrugged as if the additional information might make a difference in how Santana responded.

"No way!" She couldn't stop laughing at the image of Landon streaking out of some girl's house in lacy panties, clutching the rest of her clothes in her arms. "Like, was someone actually chasing you?"

"The first time it was the girl's old man went after me. Dude actually came at me with a fucking baseball bat! The second time it was," Landon hesitated. "Okay look, I told you I don't make it my business to go after other people's girls, and I don't, but that doesn't mean they always tell me they're involved."

"Oh. My. God. Some girl's _girlfriend_ ran you off in your underwear?"

Landon looked down sheepishly. "Boyfriend."

Santana's jaw dropped. Landon raised her hands, "it totally wasn't my fault! She didn't say anything, I swear!" She shook her head. "_Anyway_, I've learned to keep my ass covered, so to speak."

Santana didn't remember the last time she laughed so hard. It felt really good, and she sighed contently, catching the other girl's eyes.

"So, what's up?" Santana asked, the eye contact making her stomach clench. She needed to refocus on what brought her here in the first place.

Landon pushed off against the lockers and approached Santana slowly. "I wanted to talk to you about Friday." Before Santana could protest, Landon continued. "I didn't mean to imply anything about your relationship with Brittany. Well, I guess I did more than imply something but I didn't mean to upset you" she rushed on. "You're right. I don't know anything about you and Brittany." She leaned next to Santana. "I shouldn't have assumed anything and I apologize for making you uncomfortable."

"Whatever. It doesn't even matter. Let's just drop the whole thing, okay?" Santana didn't want to think about her increasingly complex relationship with Brittany, and she certainly didn't want to discuss it with Landon.

"So, you're single then? Like really?"

Santana nodded, her eyes downcast.

"How is that even possible?" Landon smiled broadly at the girl. "Okay then, how about this? You go out on a date. With me."

The small brunette sighed. "So you still think I'm gay?"

"No, actually," Landon lifted Santana's chin, bringing Santana's eyes up to meet hers. "I think you're beautiful." Santana held her breath.

After a brief stare off, Landon pulled back slightly, putting on her most charming grin. "And I would never forgive myself if I went the whole year and didn't at least _try_ to get in your pants." Landon winked before continuing. "Come on, you don't have to be gay to want to get up on this. I'm like a total stud!"

Santana shook her head but couldn't help smiling at the girl's bravado. "So, what would this date be like? It wouldn't be all lesbian, would it? Like, I'm so not going to an Ani DiFranco concert."

Landon laughed openly at that. "Well, I thought we'd start the night at a spoken word poetry reading; it's open mic night. Then we could head over to Vegan Naturals for a quinoa salad for two. And maybe we'd round the night off at the animal shelter where we'd adopt a three-legged dog that we'd name Scout. I figure we can save the U-Haul for the second date."

Santana was not amused.

"Look, it's a date, Santana," Landon laughed. "It means you get dressed up in something super sexy, I come pick you up looking equally hot. We have dinner, maybe see a movie, I pay for everything. It's a really sweet deal for you." She paused. "Did I mention I'm like really hot?"

The smaller girl couldn't help but be charmed by the jock.

"Come on," Landon urged quietly, nudging Santana with her shoulder.

Santana ducked her head and made Landon wait a minute before nodding.

"Yes?"

Another nod.

"Yes!" Landon pumped her fist. She picked up her duffle and threw an arm across Santana's shoulders, guiding them out of the locker room. "It's gonna be awesome. Oh, and whether we end the night pants-less is _totally_ up to you, by the way."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"If I have to hear one more word about you and the boy-child singing another lame-ass duet I swear I'm gonna stab you in the throat with my eyebrow pencil!" Santana could not take another minute of Rachel prattling on and on, trying to defend a method that had failed royally. Twice! "We need to dole out solos and showcase individual talent who are _not_ Rachel Berry."

"Santana," Rachel continued as calmly as she could. She didn't like the grip Santana had on that eyebrow pencil. "We all know you are a fine soloist but being a good singer is not enough to win Nationals. Let's face it," Rachel paused and looked at the group from her stance at the front of the room, "Finn and I are the only ones with the stage presence and _experience_ to win. Sure, we can do whatever we want in lead ups and pep rallies, but when it comes to the big shows, _you,_" she pointed at Santana, "need _us_," she pointed to her chest as Finn was sitting in the back row trying to stay out of the fray.

"That's it," Santana threw her arms up and stormed out of her seat, lunging toward Rachel.

"Okay, okay!" Schuester stepped between the two girls. "This is getting us nowhere! We are a team. We need to make decisions as a team for the best of the _team_."

Rachel huffed once before responding, "then let Landon decide." Her suggestion caught everyone off guard, especially the tall girl in question.

Landon had been lounging in the front row, her long legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. She'd been watching the exchange with amusement, chuckling lightly to herself. She didn't think she'd be pulled into the conflict so directly. She sat up at the sound of her name, tucking her legs in and pointing to her chest. "Me?"

"Yeah," Finn interjected. "Why her?" He didn't appreciate the power Rachel was giving the new girl.

"Look," Rachel approached Landon, "by now you've seen all of us perform. And being new, you're not mired in the politics of glee club. You haven't shown any interest in having a solo yourself so I know you're not just going suggest what's best for you. Let's face it," she stood back and focused on the group as a whole, "we all have individual stakes in what we perform. We need an informed party that isn't out for themselves." Rachel approached Landon again. "You're the most impartial person here. I have amazing instincts and I trust that you'll base your suggestion on what's best for all of us. So what do you think?"

Schue, curious about Rachel's proposal, jumped in. "I think that's a fair idea. Not that what Landon says is final," he cautioned. "But I think it'd be helpful to hear an outside perspective," he paused. "Not that we consider you an outsider," he smiled awkwardly at her.

"Um, well I don't know much about show choir really." Landon was thoughtful. She didn't really want to get involved, but they were all looking at her expectantly. She sighed, "I guess a duet would be the best way to showcase the most talent, and two great singers really tearing up a kick ass song together would also highlight the team aspect."

"Yes!" Rachel pumped her fist. Santana threw her arms up and rolled her eyes.

"And I think Rachel and Santana should do it." There was shocked silence for a split-second and Landon lowered her eyes, focusing on her clasped hands in her lap.

"What?" Rachel gawked at her. "Me and _Santana_?"

"Dude, that's _so_ not gonna happen." Santana shook her head and crossed her arms.

"Yea, like what about me?" Finn jumped in.

"Hold on. Let her explain," Schuester implored.

Landon looked up and addressed the group. "From what I gather, you've done the whole female-male power ballad thing and it hasn't really worked so far. Frankly, it's tired. And you know every choir with strong male and female leads will do the same." The shock was giving way to interest, and the group looked to Landon to continue. "We're lucky to have really kickass female singers and I think Rachel's and Santana's voices could work really well together. They're both strong performers and they both really want to win." Landon shrugged. "It'll make us stand out. And," she leaned back and stretched her legs out once again, "I think 'Edge of Glory' would make an awesome duet for the two of you."

Rachel met Santana's glare. "A duet? Together?"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"I'm gonna kill you," Santana forced through clenched teeth. She approached Landon after glee, not giving the jock a chance to leave her seat.

Landon smiled up at her. "Come on, Lopez. You know you guys would kick the shit outta a duet."

"Well, duh. That's not the point. It's Rachel fucking Berry. You know she's gonna micromanage the whole frickin' thing. And I swear to God, the moment she says 'it's what Barbra would do' I'm gonna rip her eyelids off and feed them to her goldfish."

"Wow. That's…disturbingly graphic and specific."

Santana sighed and leaned against the wall next to a still seated Landon. "I can't believe you just hooked me into spending every afternoon with Rachel fucking Berry."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"San!" Brittany rushed up to Santana who was retrieving books from her locker. "You have to come over tonight! I just got the MJ Experience and I'm so gonna kick your butt on it!" She bounced in place. "I haven't even opened it yet. I'm giving you a non-lumpy field to play-"

"Level playing field."

"So when I kick your butt you can't say I cheated!"

Santana closed her locker slowly. _Shit_. Tonight was her date with Landon. "I can't tonight, B. I'm sorry." Brittany stopped bouncing and pouted. "I'll totally come over early tomorrow and we can play all day. Then you'll be able to kick my butt as much as you want." She smiled hopefully at Brittany.

"I guess." Brittany's eyes were still downcast and she rubbed the toe of her sneaker into the floor.

"I'll bring snacks and movies for later."

The toe stopped digging into the linoleum. A slight smile tugged at the corner of her mouth but she still wouldn't look up.

"I'll stay the night even. If you want."

And there it was. A full-fledged, wide-ass, shit-eating, I-so-played-you smile from Brittany.

Santana shook her head and laughed.

"I think that would be okay," Brittany informed her cheerily. "So what are you doing Friday, anyway?"

_Shit_. "Um, I told Landon we'd hang out, that's all."

Brittany's smile fell. She clenched her jaw so hard she thought she might break a molar. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know." Santana tried to be really casual. "Probably grab something to eat. Maybe catch a movie. I don't know really." _Damn it, that totally sounds like a date. Fuck! That's because it is a date, moron!_

"That totally sounds like a date," Brittany echoed unknowingly. She crossed her arms and Santana could swear she saw light blue eyes go dark and stormy in an instant.

Brittany's nostrils flared. She wanted to stomp her foot, preferably on Santana's so the brunette would know exactly how she felt about it, but she wasn't a child and if she did stomp Santana's foot she'd feel bad about it and Santana didn't deserve her sympathy in this moment.

"B, I'm just trying to get to know her. That's all. You're always telling me to be nicer and how important it is to make friends with the gleeks, and-"

"Not with her!" She couldn't help it. She stomped. But she did refrain from making contact with Santana's foot.

"B, just give her a chance." Santana reached for Brittany's hands to calm the girl down, but the dancer was too fast. She spun on her heel and walked with quick, determined steps down the hall.

"Britt!" Santana called after her but the blonde never wavered and she was out of sight in seconds.

_Shit!_ Santana took her phone out and texted Brittany.

_Tomorrow. I promise. Just us. _


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thanks once again for all of the alerts and reviews! It's really helpful to hear what's working for some and not for others. So please drop me a line and review if you have the chance. For all of you Brittana shippers, let me assure you that I am one too! :) While I do not intend this to be terribly angsty, there does need to be a little drama for this to be interesting, right? :) That means more Lantana for now. But please hold tight and stick with it! I hope to make it all worth it in the end. And to any Landon / Lantana fans, I need to hear some love from you too! **

**For those of you wondering what Landon looks like, when I write her, I envision a young Xena (yes, I'm old and a geek; for you youngsters out there, google her; she's totally boss). Take that as you will. :)**

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything. And I am not an astronomer. Please take the constellation stuff with a grain of salt.

Chapter Nine

Santana stood in her matching black bra and underwear and surveyed the clothes strewn about her bed. Everything from skinny jeans, mini-skirts, way too short shorts, halter tops, loose-fitting blouses, and all manner of dresses were haphazardly arranged on the large surface. She'd been planning for her…outing with Landon for the better part of two hours and she still couldn't decide what to wear.

Her mind was as cluttered as her bed and she had difficulty focusing on the task at hand. Santana was a master of projection. People only saw what Santana wanted them to see. They knew only the things Santana wanted them to know. And she used her wardrobe strategically—to gain control and set the stage for what _she_ wanted. The only person who could see past the clothes and make-up and badass exterior was Brittany. A Brittany who at the moment wasn't speaking to her.

Santana sighed and sat down on the bed. She hadn't heard from Brittany since the blonde walked away from her earlier that afternoon and the uncertainty of where they stood only made her upcoming night with Landon all the more nerve-racking.

_What am I doing?_ But she couldn't give herself an answer.

She was going on a date with a girl and that girl wasn't Brittany. This wasn't a scenario Santana had ever imagined. It wasn't something she had ever planned for. Even though she and Brittany had been nothing more than best friends all summer, had done nothing more than cuddle and pinky-link, Santana knew the blonde was hurt by the time she spent with Landon. But she wasn't ready to give Brittany what she needed. And now she was going on a date with another girl.

_What am I doing?_ she repeated with more force, throwing herself back against the bed.

Santana wanted things to be easy with Landon, but thoughts of blonde hair and blue eyes made her decisions anything but easy.

She stood and surveyed the bed again. Her problem was that she didn't know what image she wanted to project to the tall jock—what she wanted Landon to see and what she wanted this night to be. Santana was a master at first dates but only those that had ulterior motives. She used dates to get something else she wanted; the date itself was simply a vehicle to manipulate and scheme. But she didn't know what she wanted from Landon and so this night represented something foreign and new, and she didn't know how to plan for it.

_What am I _doing_?_

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

It took Landon far less time to get ready for her date with Santana. She chose dark jeans and a charcoal gray long-sleeved shirt that she rolled up just below the elbow. She topped it off with a skinny black tie loosely fastened at her neck. Although she usually pulled her long hair back into a ponytail, she instead chose to leave it down and let the dark waves settle around her shoulders.

Before she left, she picked up the envelope Ginny left her on the kitchen counter. Landon's parents gave Ginny a monthly stipend for her care of which she was supposed to receive a portion. What Ginny left her, however, always varied. One week she'd get twenty bucks. Another ten. Some weeks she'd get nothing at all. It was always a gamble whether the thin white envelope would be there at all. Luckily, tonight she was surprised by thirty dollars and with what she had saved previously, Landon was sure she'd be able to take Santana out properly.

She grabbed her keys and left the trailer with a spring in her step and a smile on her lips.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Santana finally decided on white skinny jeans and a fitted red top. It was casual but still showed off her body. It said there was effort put into the look but she wasn't pulling out all the stops.

They started the night with dinner at Breadstix and as they settled at opposite sides of a booth Santana looked around the restaurant nervously. This was it. She was sitting across another girl about to have dinner in a very public place where most people brought their dates. What if kids from McKinley were there? What would they see when they looked at her and Landon? What would they assume? Sure, she brought Brittany here at least once a month to get her breadsticks on, but that was different. Everyone knew she and Brittany were friends. They wouldn't give them a second thought, even when they shared one side of the booth and touched and giggled as they dined.

"Hey, these aren't bad," Landon said, waving a breadstick around, catching Santana's attention and bringing her out of her own head.

"What?" Santana wondered if she heard the girl correctly. "Have you never been here before?"

Landon shook her head and continued to munch.

"Have you, like, been living under a rock or something? This place is the shit!"

The tall girl laughed at Santana's shocked, almost disgusted, look. "I just haven't been in Lima too long. But I'm glad you enjoy it. Score one for the most awesome first date ever." She winked and Santana's nerves settled. The jock made everything seem so natural, like nothing they were doing was all that unusual or strange. Santana fed off Landon's self-assuredness and relaxed back into the booth slightly.

"You look great, by the way." Landon smiled and allowed her eyes to settle on the petite brunette in front of her.

"I know." Santana shrugged and Landon laughed, leaning back herself.

"I like you, Lopez. Badass and all sexy. I'm glad we're here."

Santana smiled. "Yea, me too." And to her surprise, she meant it.

They fell into easy conversation after that, both sharing stories of horrendous first dates and clueless boyfriends / girlfriends. Landon gave Santana a run for her money when it came to how many breadsticks each could eat, both falling into fits of laughter after Santana informed the waitress in no uncertain terms what the endless in "endless breadsticks" actually meant.

It was pretty late by the time the two left the restaurant and they decided to forgo a movie. "So," Landon inquired, "this is your first date with a girl, right?"

Santana blushed and nodded.

"Well, then, I feel obligated to represent for all the lesbians out there and make it extra special," she replied as she opened her truck door for Santana and helped her in.

"O-kay," Santana drawled. "What does that mean? You're not getting in my pants if that's the plan." Santana clutched the door handle, ready to jump out if she didn't like Landon's response.

Landon chuckled as she settled behind the wheel. "Of course not, what kind of woman do you think I am?"

Santana simply raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, so maybe I am that kind of woman," she smirked, "but I told you that whether we end up pants-less is totally up to you. So, unless I get the go ahead, I'm perfectly happy having you fully clothed." Landon started up the truck and turned to Santana before pulling out of the lot. "I thought maybe we could sit out and watch the stars for a bit. You know, just relax and talk. No funny business, I promise."

Santana smiled and agreed.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

After about 30 minutes, Santana started to worry. They were on a narrow dirt road surrounded by thick groves of trees and bushes, and although Landon looked like she knew where they were going, Santana wasn't so sure. Her phone service was spotty and she'd hate to be stuck in the middle of nowhere with no way to contact anyone. She turned to Landon and watched the jock maneuver the truck easily through the increasingly encroaching bush. Landon drove a stick and Santana watched the muscles of her forearms bunch and flex as she shifted. She let her eyes travel down to long, sure fingers that held the gearshift securely. Maybe getting lost in the Ohio jungle with Landon might not be so bad after all.

Suddenly, they broke through to a clearing where Landon pulled the truck around, maneuvering so that the truck bed faced out toward the clearing.

"Ready?" Landon asked with a confident smile.

"For what?"

"Come see and find out." Landon jumped out of the truck and grabbed a duffle from the compartment behind the seat.

Hesitantly, Santana left the vehicle and approached the taller girl who was standing at the edge of the clearing that turned into a small cliff overlooking Lima. With its multicolored lights glimmering in the darkness, Lima looked almost beautiful then.

"Oh wow," Santana breathed at the sight. "How'd you find this place?"

"Just driving around one day. I don't like staying indoors too long. Gets to feel claustrophobic." Landon left Santana to enjoy the view as she made her way back to the truck. She pulled two sleeping bags from behind Santana's seat and started laying them out one on top of the other in the truck bed, her duffle having already been placed in a corner.

"Come here." Landon reached out a hand to Santana when the other girl finally turned from the view of the city. She helped Santana up and they settled crossed-legged on the sleeping bags. Landon pulled her duffle over and dumped an array of sweets in front of them. "Dessert!"

Santana smiled at the packages of M&Ms, Kit Kats, Dots, and mini donuts that lay between them. "Very classy," she smirked.

After a few M&Ms and a couple Dots, Santana decided she had had enough and stretched out on her back, gazing up at the stars.

"You sure you don't want anymore," Landon asked, a bit perplexed.

"Nah, I'm good. Not a real sweets person."

"Really? But you keep all that candy in your locker."

Santana turned on her side towards Landon and propped her head up, using her elbow to support herself. "And how would you know that?" She raised an eyebrow.

Landon looked down sheepishly. "I may have sneaked a peek in your locker when you were touching up your make-up. Totally unnecessary, by the way."

"Spying, Landon? Tsk tsk. And here I thought you were one of those upstanding lesbian types." She rolled onto her back. "I'm going to have to rethink this whole awesome first date thing," she teased.

Landon laughed and stretched out beside her. "Well, I only looked because I wanted to make tonight special. Doesn't that count for anything?" She propped herself on an elbow and looked down at the lounging brunette.

"I _suppose_ that's okay then. But next time just ask me what I like." Santana smiled up at the girl.

After letting their gazes lock for a moment, Landon exhaled deeply and turned onto her back, settling so that their shoulders touched. "So what's up with all the candy then? You're not robbing young children before school, are you?"

Santana swatted the jock on the stomach, her eyes never leaving the star-covered sky. "Brittany likes to have something sweet in the middle of the day. It helps her get through her afternoon classes." She shrugged. "Sometimes she forgets to bring something with her."

Landon crossed her arms behind her head. "That's really nice of you, Santana. She's lucky to have you."

They were silent for a long moment, and Landon hoped she hadn't overstepped her boundaries once again. She really liked Santana. For as much as she joked, Landon really thought the date was going well and she hoped she hadn't ruined it by bringing up the beautiful blonde. While she certainly wondered about Santana and Brittany's relationship, Landon knew better than to push the issue. The jock knew the two were close, like really, _really_ close. But Santana told her she was single and for now Landon would take her at her word.

Landon was pulled away from her thoughts by Santana pointing up into the night sky. "That's Big Bear," she said quietly, tracing a finger from one glittering light to another.

"Show me again."

"That's Ursa Major and there's the big dipper. The handle of the dipper is Big Bear's tail. Then keep moving down the cup," she explained quietly. Landon followed the delicate finger, trying to see what Santana could.

"Show me another."

"You see those three really bright stars there?" Landon nodded. "That's Orion's belt," she pointed. "The Hunter. That's probably the most known constellation because it can be seen from anywhere on earth."

"How do you know all this?"

Santana shrugged. "Brittany likes this stuff. The different people and animals and stories attached to the stars," she drifted off and sighed. "She says that you can never be lonely when the sky's full of friends."

Landon stared up into the night. "She seems really smart," she whispered.

Santana closed her eyes, rubbing a hand across her forehead. "So what brings you to lovely Lima," she redirected, changing the subject abruptly.

"Just didn't work out where I was living before."

"What does that mean? Did your parents move or something?"

Landon didn't say anything for a long moment and Santana wondered if she was going to answer the question. Finally, Landon sighed. "My parents live in Carmel," she answered quietly.

"Why don't you go to Carmel then?" Santana sat up and turned to look at Landon.

Landon rubbed her eyes roughly. "I don't live with them anymore. It's a really long story. Not exactly first date stuff. Can I give you a rain check?" The jock looked up into soft chocolate brown eyes and gave the girl a strained smile.

"Yea, whatever," Santana settled back down. "Although you're assuming you get another date with me. Not many people do, you know."

Landon appreciated the break in the tension and she fell a little more for the girl next to her. They stayed silent, enjoying the warm night and the sparkling stars above. At some point, Landon reached out and grabbed Santana's hand and Santana didn't remove it.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

It was early Saturday morning. Earlier than Santana ever got up on a Saturday (well, unless there was Cheerios practice but it'd been a long time since she had to wake up for one of those). She'd been standing on the Pierce's stoop with a backpack full of snacks for the past 15 minutes, willing herself to ring the bell, call the tall blonde, drive the fuck home, or just do _something_. She wasn't even sure Brittany was home at this point.

Sighing loudly she finally figured it was time to suck it up and see if her best friend still wanted to spend time with her.

It only took a moment after ringing the bell before Santana was engulfed in a bone-crushing hug. "You're here! And it's early!" Brittany exclaimed pulling the shorter girl to her roughly, her arms circling Santana's waist tightly.

Santana let out a long breath and sunk into the embrace. _It was okay. Everything was okay_. She smiled into the tall girl's neck, relieved.

"Come on, no one's home so we can take over the family room! Let's go!" Brittany grabbed Santana's hand, pulling her into the house and kicking the door shut behind them.

As expected, Santana was no match for Brittany on the MJ Experience, and the lithe dancer spent the better part of three hours kicking Santana's butt, although the shorter girl tried to keep it close. After a particularly bad beating, however, Santana begged for a break and the two girls decided to take the snacks upstairs and watch some TV in Brittany's room.

They were sprawled out on their stomachs side-by-side on the bed, watching a Jersey Shore marathon and munching on the snacks Santana brought. "So," Brittany started tentatively. Santana knew by the blonde's tone that she wasn't going to like where Brittany was going. "How was your…_thing_ last night?" She didn't look at Santana and instead watched her fingers trace patterns on the bedspread.

"It was fine. Really, Brittany, it wasn't a big deal." Santana tried to shrug it off.

"What did you guys do?" Brittany may not be what most would consider book smart, but she knew people, she knew Santana most of all, and she had one heck of an imagination. That combination meant that Brittany spent most of the previous night plagued by images of what Santana usually did on dates, and the later the evening got the more graphic the images became. She wasn't sure if she really wanted to know what happened between Santana and Landon, but she had to stop her imagination from creating the details for her. She had to know what the girls did or hopefully didn't do.

"Just dinner."

Brittany sighed and sat up, crossing her legs and looking down at her fingers in her lap. She promised herself she wouldn't be intimate with Santana until Santana was ready to be open about who she was and who she was with. She knew she pushed too hard with her Fondue for Two prom proposal, and she broke her own heart in the process. That had to be punishment enough for being too eager, didn't it?

But she knew better now and she was giving Santana the time and space she seemed to need. Now though, now Santana was running from her and she didn't know what to do to make her stop. She thought time was the answer but now she didn't know much of it she had.

"What are you doing, Santana?" she breathed, finally daring to look at the other girl.

Santana rolled over and mimicked Brittany's position on the bed. "I don't know what you mean," she tried to deflect, not meeting the other girl's gaze.

"Yes, you do. Don't," Brittany hesitated. "Don't lie to me," she finished softly.

"I'm not!" Santana reached out and took Brittany's hands and the blonde let her hold them. "I'm not. I don't know what you want me to say." She paused, trying to determine the best way to placate the blonde. "I don't know what you're thinking, but," she paused again, "she's not a bad person, Britt." Brittany rolled her eyes. "She's not. I don't know why you don't like her but-"

Brittany pulled her hands away and stood up quickly. "You don't know! You have _no_ idea why I have…_issues_ with her? Really, Santana?" She moved to lean against her desk and crossed her arms over her chest.

Dark blue eyes bore into Santana and the brunette had to look away. "It's nothing, Britt," she said quietly. "We're friends."

"Like _we're_ friends?" Brittany countered quickly.

"God, no!" Her eyes flashed toward Brittany in frustration but the fire dissipated quickly. She sighed and moved to sit at the edge of the bed, letting her legs dangle off the side. She looked down at her feet. "You know what you mean to me," she said softly.

Brittany hugged herself tightly. "Did you sleep with her?"

Santana could barely hear the question it was spoken so softly, but once it registered the small brunette leapt to her feet. "Of course not! How could you think that?" She started pacing in front of the blonde. "It was just dinner. Nothing happened!" she couldn't help raising her voice. She was scared and unsure and for Santana that meant reacting loudly, angrily.

"Well what am I supposed to think?" Brittany responded with equal irritation. She was _so_ frustrated. God, this girl could make her so angry sometimes.

"Britt, I don't know what to tell you. _Nothing_ happened." She stopped her pacing in front of the dancer and walked up close. "It's not a big deal, okay? Don't make it a big deal," Santana pleaded. She reached out tentatively, placing her hand gently on Brittany's crossed arms. "Can we…can we just have a good day today? I promised today would be just us. Let's…let's make it just us, okay?" Her deep brown eyes searched out for vivid blue. "Please Britt-Britt."

Brittany finally raised her eyes to meet Santana's. They were so soft, so warm, so pleading. It was a Santana reserved only for her, at least it had been. Brittany shook herself from the thought. As angry and frustrated as she was with Santana, she just couldn't resist the small girl when she looked at her like that. She sighed loudly and nodded.

Santana didn't waste a second before gathering the dancer in her arms. She pulled her in tightly and whispered, "it's going to be okay," softly in Brittany's ear. She ran her hands up and down the tall girl's back. "Everything's going to be okay." And in that moment, Santana didn't know which one of them she was trying to convince.

They spent the rest of the night in strained silence. Santana tried to engage the blonde in easy conversation but was only met with one-word answers and curt nods. When they got ready for bed, Santana opened her arms to the tall girl and Brittany settled in them without speaking.

Brittany curled her long body around the small girl, resting her head in the crook of the brunette's neck. She breathed Santana in, wanting to imprint her scent in her own body, wanting to make the brunette part of her. _Santana just needed time_, she told herself, and willed herself to believe it.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Okay, I don't think that's too angsty, is it? :) Let me know what you think! If you review or PM me, I'll try to soothe whatever fears you may have and also take in your suggestions.**

**Just a heads up on updating: I'll be on a trip for the next two weeks and won't be able to update until I return. I'll update as soon as I can when I get home. Hopefully you don't lose interest! :) Love you all!**


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N: Thanks for your patience, all! I had a wonderful trip and it was made all the more pleasant by your well wishes. All of your reviews and alerts really made me want to get back to writing and hopefully live up to all of the kind words. This chapter was really hard to write, however. There's a lot of emotional stuff that comes up and I try to get in the character's heads which was tricky. So it'll have a different feel from previous chapters, but I hope it all works! As always, please review and / or drop me a PM. I really appreciate all of the alerts as well. Thank you all so much!**

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything. Not the show or the song, which is "Rhythm of Love" by Plain White T's.

Chapter Ten

Brittany didn't have a plan. That in itself wasn't all that unusual. She wasn't the kind of person who spent much time or energy strategizing for future events. Instead she tended to rely on her instincts and intuition, and just took things as they came. She liked the spontaneity and surprises of life and met most things with a happy-go-lucky kind of attitude.

Besides, Santana made sure she made it through the big events unscathed anyway. If Brittany had a big trip, Santana made sure Brittany packed all the essentials, exchanging excess hats and legwarmers for underwear and socks when necessary. At the beginning of each school year, she made sure Brittany memorized her school schedule, working with the dancer to create mnemonic devices that made Brittany giggle every time she recited them in her head. Most importantly, it was Santana who helped Brittany with major life decisions, not by making them for her (which would come as a surprise to many of their peers); but by focusing the capricious blonde and helping her lay out pros and cons for the choices Brittany eventually had to make on her own.

Brittany didn't really need to be a planner because she had Santana, and Santana allowed the carefree blonde to simply enjoy the world without really needing to invest much forethought into things. Santana took care of her and Brittany loved her for it. They needed each other. It was the surest thing Brittany knew. They were better people together than they ever were apart, and Brittany wasn't about to give that up for anything.

She had seen what her world was like without Santana's steady presence. And while she had learned so much from being with Artie, and as sweet and fulfilling as that time with him had been in its own way, Brittany knew she allowed herself to regress in that relationship. She let Artie indulge her fantasies and shield her from reality. Honestly, it actually took Brittany a while to realize that, unlike Santana, Artie didn't seem to understand that they were _fantasies_, flights of fancy that Brittany liked to disappear into from time to time. He didn't realize that Brittany herself saw them as fantasies, and in the end she found herself indulging _him_ more and more.

Santana though, Santana _knew_ her. She knew when Brittany was being serious and when she was being mischievous and playful. And while Santana never outright dissuaded her from her peculiar and fantastical beliefs, she didn't reinforce them either. Santana never pretended to believe things she didn't. Brittany wasn't stupid and she wasn't a child. And Santana refused to treat her like she was.

Santana let Brittany be impulsive and whimsical and imaginative. Part of the reason she fought so hard for reputation and to be on top was to create a protective bubble around the quirky blonde so that Brittany could be silly and spontaneous and hopeful. The fiery brunette protected Brittany from ridicule and harassment as best she could because she wanted to give the blonde a safe space to come to her own beliefs, to take in the world on her own terms. And Santana would gladly indulge many of the tall girl's whims, but she wouldn't lie to her. She wouldn't pretend something existed when she knew it didn't.

And Brittany needed that from someone. She needed someone who believed in her enough to let her come to her own realizations, even those she didn't necessarily like—discoveries that might be painful or unpleasant but were necessary if Brittany was going to be an independent, successful adult. Brittany needed Santana.

And Brittany knew all of this; now more than ever. And she wasn't about to let some stranger come in and disrupt the relationship she had built, and continued to build, with Santana. Because for all of their back and forth, for as many people they "dated," for as often as they hurt each other, Santana belonged to Brittany, and she'd be damned if someone new girl was going to come into their lives and take what was hers.

That's how she found herself storming down crowded halls with firm, deliberate steps, her heart filled with fire and passion but with no plan.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Landon pulled an olive green tank top over her head and smoothed it down her body. She was just about finished changing from practice when she heard the door to the locker room open.

"Lopez, that you?" she called out with a smile. When she didn't hear a reply, she turned and was surprised to see Brittany standing straight, arms crossed over her chest, her brilliant blue eyes staring her down.

"Hey Brittany," Landon began hesitantly, unnerved by the blonde's unrelenting gaze. "Um, what brings you down to the girls' locker?"

Brittany took in the athletic brunette. Landon was tall and fit and confident. If it wasn't for Santana's obvious interest in the girl, Brittany would think Landon was super sexy. But the only thing on the dancer's mind at the moment was what the jock represented, and she could only see the threat she imposed. She closed her eyes tightly and took deep breaths, trying to calm the rolling of her stomach. She felt like she was going to be sick.

The longer the blonde didn't speak, the more nervous Landon became. "Brittany? You okay?"

"Stay away from Santana," she blurted suddenly. It wasn't the most artful declaration she could make, but it was honest and it was the only thing Brittany could think to say.

Landon was taken aback. "Um, what? I don't understand."

Brittany huffed and ran a shaky hand through her hair. She turned her back to the jock, trying to collect herself. This woman made her feel things she wasn't used to feeling. Anger, jealousy, frustration, they rumbled together in her gut, making her queasy. So as with most things in her life, Brittany simply did what her feelings dictated.

"I want you to stay away from Santana. I don't want you spending time with her anymore," she restated, her back still turned to the tall jock.

Landon sighed. This was not a conversation she had anticipated having with the beautiful blonde. Brittany barely said ten words to her since their first meeting and although Landon had tried to engage the dancer, Brittany had been largely unresponsive, cold even. Faced with the dancer's unexpected anger and bold request, Landon was caught off guard.

"Brittany," she started hesitantly, "I'm not sure what you think I'm trying to do with Santana, but I'd never hurt her. I like her-"

"You _are_ hurting her," Brittany cut her off and spun around. Her eyes flashed and she rushed to prevent Landon from continuing her thought. She didn't need to hear about how much the other girl _liked_ Santana. "You think you're helping, but you're _not_. You're just…you're just making it easier for her hide." Brittany's voice was thick as she stumbled over how to verbalize what she was feeling without revealing too much to the new girl, to this stranger. "She's supposed to be working on herself, on being okay with herself. She doesn't need you…_messing _with her."

Landon took a breath and approached the distraught blonde slowly. "Look, I know Santana has some issues with being queer," seeing Brittany's eyes narrow she rephrased her statement, "or coming out or whatever. That doesn't bother me. She can take whatever time she needs. I just want to be there for her. I can help her through this."

Brittany stiffened at Landon's words. "You don't get it! Santana doesn't need…" she paused, "a _girlfriend_ now," she bit off the word as if it physically hurt to say. "Being with you is just going to confuse her more. You have no idea what went on last year. You're messing everything up!"

Brittany let out a foreceful breath and pushed her hands against her forehead, trying to ease the pulsing ache that was blooming behind her eyes. Landon stayed quiet, waiting for her to continue. "Santana's so scared that she can't see how amazing she is and how amazing being with her is and how anyone she's with would want to show her off and be with her openly and…and…and she needs to realize that we can't keep going on being secretive and hiding and pretending. It's all just so stupid! And it hurts her the most in the end."

The blonde was so caught up in her emotions that she didn't realize her slip. Landon, on the other hand, had not missed the "we" in Brittany's outburst and her stomach dropped a little. "Brittany," she paused. She didn't know how to ask what was becoming painfully necessary in the moment. Landon didn't want to think that Santana had lied to her, but the emotions radiating off the tall blonde were way out of proportion to what Landon thought was appropriate for someone talking about their "friend." She looked down at her feet before continuing. "I was under the impression that you and Santana weren't together, romantically, I mean." She looked up at the blonde, hoping to make eye contact. "Was I wrong?"

Brittany felt her chest tighten. She darted her eyes to the floor and curled her toes inside her sneakers. "It's not like that," she said quietly. "We're…we're not together like that." With more force, she looked up and added, "she shouldn't be with _anyone_ like that. Not until she's ready to accept herself and love herself and be open with who she is and who she loves."

"That's a lot to ask, Brittany," Landon replied. "I want that for Santana too but she's got to work it out at her own pace. And if she's as scared as you think, then she needs as much love and support as she can get, right?"

"She has that! _I _support her. Glee club will be there for her when she lets them. What she doesn't need is _you_ -" she stopped abruptly, struggling to find a way to say _fucking her_ without having to actually say it, "_being with_ _her_ and letting her continue to hide and be afraid."

"Brittany," Landon was initially relieved to hear the blonde confirm that she and Santana weren't involved but she was becoming frustrated with Brittany's accusations that somehow she wasn't good for Santana. She wanted to reassure Brittany but she certainly wasn't going to stay away from the brunette either. "I get that you and Santana have history, and believe me when I say I'm not trying to hurt either one of you. But maybe you're confusing what Santana needs with what you need."

Brittany's jaw clenched so tightly the jock could actually see her grinding her back teeth. Her eyes were dark and she straightened her back and squared her shoulders. Although Landon was much taller and broader than the leggy blonde, she found herself taking a step back, unsure what the incensed woman in front of her was capable of.

"Okay. Okay," Landon interjected, raising her palms to calm the girl. "Look, we both want what's best for Santana, and she must be making progress, right? I mean she wouldn't be friends with me if she was so worried about what people would think about her." She took a breath. "She's just moving at her own pace, that doesn't mean she shouldn't be loved in the process."

Brittany pursed her lips. "This isn't about that! This isn't about loving Santana. She is loved. It's about helping her be okay with herself!"

"You keep saying that but what does that even mean?" Landon's frustration and irritation was building as she felt unwarrantedly attacked. "What do you want from her, Brittany? You want her to shout her love for girls or for you from the rooftops? To declare to God, her parents, the school that she's queer? If that's what you need in order to be with her, then that's fine. You shouldn't have to compromise your needs for hers. But Brittany," Landon took a step forward and tried to place a hand on the blonde's shoulder. Brittany pulled away abruptly. "If there's someone who can love her and hold her and be with her as she works through this, without grand gestures or public displays, maybe you should let them try?"

Ugh, this woman was so frustrating! She just didn't get it. Brittany stomped her foot. "You're just distracting her. You make it easy for her to continue denying who she is because you don't ask anything more from her. You don't know her." She clenched her fists and slapped them against her thighs. This girl just wasn't getting it and Brittany didn't know how to make her understand. "I just want her to be proud of herself. I don't want her to be afraid anymore. I want her to know she has people here who love her and will be there for her no matter what." The irritated blonde's voice grew as she tried to convince the jock that being with Landon wasn't what Santana needed.

"But she's getting there Brittany. Maybe it's taking her a little longer than you'd like, but she's getting there." Landon rubbed her forehead, trying think of a way to convince the angry blonde that she wasn't the bad guy in this confusing scenario. "Coming out is hard. And it's scary. And it can feel really lonely. And if she's scared, maybe there's reason to be. It isn't our place to dictate when and how Santana reveals herself to others. We can just be there for her when she needs us."

"We are there for her! Even if it's going to be hard, we'd protect her!"

"You're going to protect her?" Landon slammed the open locker door that separated the two women closed. She was quickly finding her frustration morphing into anger. She had weathered the blonde's accusations, tried to reason and reassure her and still Brittany persisted in casting Landon as the villain. She looked directly into the blonde's electric blue eyes, clenched her jaw and lowered her voice. "I came out at 14 and my parents wasted no time in kicking me out on my ass, unless you count the time it took for my dad to beat the shit outta me. I live in a fucking trailer with an aunt I don't even know and I haven't spoken to my brothers in _three_ years." Landon's eyes shimmered with the pain of the memory and she let out a strained laugh. "And you think you and Glee club are going to protect her?"

Brittany eyes darted everywhere but at Landon. It wasn't that Brittany was as naïve as others assumed. She knew bad things happened to some people who were Lebanese. But she'd never heard firsthand how cruel people could be and how bad it could get. She didn't want to believe that something like that could happen to Santana. She refused to believe it could happen because she knew she'd be there for her and they'd make it through the difficult times together, like they always did. Landon's story wouldn't be Santana's story. Brittany believed she could make sure of that.

Landon breathed deeply. She didn't mean to go off on the dancer and reveal so much. She smoothed her hands through her hair. "I don't regret coming out. I couldn't live any other way," she said softly. "But I know how much someone can lose. And I can't push Santana to make those decisions, to face unknown consequences if she isn't ready."

"I'm _not_ pushing her," Brittany almost whined. "I just don't think she needs to be with someone when she's still struggling with herself."

"That's a little cold-hearted."

Brittany whipped her head up and glared.

"Just because she's struggling doesn't mean she doesn't deserve to be loved," Landon continued. "Santana probably needs that more than ever now."

"Don't talk to me like you know her better than I do!" Brittany took two steps towards the jock. "Don't," she took a breath, "don't think you know what she needs. _We're_ friends. You're just something new and different, and you're just really hot. You may…_do stuff_ with her but you don't know her. We'll be there for her! She won't have to go through what you did. We won't let her."

"God, Brittany! If your coming out was all rainbows and gay unicorns then I'm happy for you. Really I am. But it's not like that for everyone. Don't you get that there can be serious consequences here? Don't be so naïve!"

Brittany approached the jock deliberately, fists balled tightly at her sides. She'd never struck anyone (intentionally at least) in her entire life. The thought never even crossed her mind. But in that moment, staring at the tall jock who represented so much uncertainty and fear and potential loss, Brittany wanted nothing more than to strike the imposing woman across the face.

When she spoke, her voice came out as a low, penetrating growl. "I'm not stupid. Don't talk to me like I am."

"No one's calling you _stupid_!"

"Hey!" Both girls turned quickly at the interruption and were shocked to see Santana standing a few feet away, her hands on her hips and her eyes narrow. She looked really pissed. Brittany and Landon took a step back, surprised and more than a little frightened by the sudden appearance of the furious object of their conversation.

And Santana was pissed. She stalked directly to Landon, raising a finger and pushing it directly into the jock's chest. "_You_ don't talk to her like that," her voice was low and disturbingly calm. There was a quiet fury burning in her eyes and Landon took another quick step back, but the enraged brunette kept coming.

Landon raised her palms out to the approaching girl. "Hey, we just…had a misunderstanding."

"You don't raise your voice to her. Ever." She gestured back to Brittany who had her head down and her arms crossed protectively over her chest. "Apologize." Santana's gaze never wavered from the tall jock. Her deep brown eyes had gone dark, almost black. She invaded Landon's personal space, her anger pulsing off of her in waves.

Landon couldn't believe how protective—unreasonably protective to Landon's mind—Santana was being, particularly since she was sure the other girl had no idea what Brittany and Landon were talking about. "Look," she said, irritated at being attacked again for nothing she did wrong, "you have no idea what's going on here so just back off, okay?"

"You don't tell me what to do. I said apologize to Brittany. Now," she pushed Landon on the chest.

"You don't even know what's going on. _She,_" Landon pointed back to Brittany, "came at me. What the fuck, Lopez!"

"Oh right," Santana said sarcastically. "Brittany doesn't get mad for no reason. She's not like us. If she's upset, _you_ provoked her. Now apologize."

Landon stared at Santana incredulously. This girl couldn't be serious. Landon straightened her back and returned Santana's fiery gaze. "_You_," she spoke firmly, directly engaging the shorter girl, "don't know what the hell's going on here. And the two of you," she gestured towards Brittany and Santana, "are ridiculous. If you want to have a conversation with me, you come find me." With that, the tall jock grabbed her duffle and pushed past the two girls, the sound of her heavy hand slamming against the locker door resounding across the small room.

Santana sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She turned toward the quiet blonde, watching her cuddle into herself. Santana knew Brittany hated confrontation and seeing her tremble and hug herself broke her heart.

"Hey," Santana said softly, approaching the blonde who still refused to meet her eyes. She reached her hands out, running them up and down Brittany's arms. "You okay, sweetie?"

Brittany nodded but still couldn't look up at the girl. She felt guilty and smug all at once. Having Santana come to her rescue without hesitation, without knowing what was happening, only hearing someone was raise their voice to her, made Brittany's heart ache. Santana loved her and protected her unconditionally. And it made Brittany feel 10-feet tall and incredibly small at the same time. She wasn't sure she deserved Santana's protection and comfort in this instance. Brittany knew she contributed to the heat of the conversation as much if not more than Landon had. She's the one who confronted the new girl and demanded she stay away from Santana. She knew she shared responsibility for how things ended.

But whatever guilt she may have felt over Santana's treatment of Landon was soon overwhelmed by the need to cling to the brunette and melt into the safety and comfort she offered. So she leapt at Santana, pulling her into her body fiercely, wrapping long arms around Santana's shoulders and burying her head into the small girl's neck.

Santana was surprised by Brittany's abrupt embrace, but she returned in it all the same. She ran calming hands up and down the dancer's back, humming softly in her ear. "It's okay. Everything's going to be okay," she whispered.

When she felt the blonde's trembling ease, Santana pulled back slightly, keeping her arms loosely around the girl's waist. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

Brittany simply shook her head and fell into Santana's embrace once more.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

It had been a long, exhausting day for Brittany, and she sighed into the body beneath her. They were in Santana's room and she was draped half on half off Santana's body, her arm circling her best friend's waist, a leg thrown across the smaller girl's thighs, her nose pressed just under and behind the girl's ear.

They hadn't spoken about what happened in the locker room, and Brittany was thankful Santana hadn't pushed the issue. She did, however, revel in the other girl's doting. The small brunette barely let her out of her sight for the rest of the day. She walked Brittany to each class, sneaking out early from her own so she'd be there when the bell rang to escort the dancer to her next session. When school let out, she drove Brittany to her house where they shared a tub of Ben and Jerry's while watching _Sweet Valley High_ in Santana's room. And now she was stroking the blonde's back slowly, holding her securely, letting her warmth seep into the woman in her arms.

Brittany wished she could be with Santana like this always. In Santana's arms, she didn't have to worry or think. She didn't have the uneasy rumble in her belly that struck whenever they were apart and the tall blonde was left to wonder what Santana was doing and with whom. Being with the brunette like this sustained Brittany. It reinforced in her that there was nothing the two together couldn't manage.

Brittany snuggled herself into Santana's side even more, grabbing the smaller woman around the waist and pulling her close. "San," she whispered.

"Hm," Santana hummed, nuzzling into the blonde hair under her chin. She hadn't pressured the blonde to talk, in part because she wasn't sure she was ready to handle whatever it was Landon and Brittany had been discussing. Instead she worked on comforting her friend and in doing so comforting herself. She would always be there for Brittany. Santana knew this without question. Whatever happened between them, she was Brittany's protector and she always would be. "What do you need, B?" she spoke softly against the blonde's temple.

"Will you sing for me? Please?"

Without releasing her grip on the dancer, Santana reached out a hand to the docking station next to the bed. She scrolled through the instrumental songs on her iPod before resetting the device and pressing play.

Brittany smiled at the opening chords, recognizing the melody immediately. Santana's soft, sweet voice filled Brittany's senses and she let out something very close to a purr as she buried herself into Santana's shoulder. When Santana got to the chorus, Brittany closed her eyes and hugged her tightly.

_We may only have tonight  
>But till the morning sun, you're mine<br>All mine  
>Play the music low<br>And sway to the rhythm of love_

Santana could feel Brittany sink into her and she rubbed soothing circles on the other girl's lower back.

_She's got blue eyes deep like the sea  
>That roll back when she's laughing at me<em>

She could feel Brittany smile into her neck, making her grin in response.

_She rises up like the tide  
>The moment her lips meet mine<em>

She felt Brittany's breathing slow and she lowered her voice, continuing to rub the blonde's back and sing softly.

_We may only have tonight  
>But till the morning sun, you're mine<br>All mine  
>Play the music low<br>And sway to the rhythm of love_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I know this chapter might not be for everyone. It's a lot to get through. But thanks for sticking it out. More action and less internal stuff (I think!) in the next chapter. :) Please review if you have the chance. **


	12. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything. Not the show and not the song, which is Lady Gaga's "Edge of Glory".

Chapter Eleven

Landon was stretched out on one of the bleachers after a long afternoon practice. She wore knee-length cargo shorts and a black tank top. It was a beautiful day in Lima and Landon didn't have anywhere to be. She extended her long arms out over her head, gripping the sides of the bench she was laying on, letting the sun hit the undersides of her arms.

"Hey."

She cracked an eye open and looked up into chocolate brown eyes and a sheepish half-smile.

"Hey," she replied coolly, closing her eye and continuing her tan. It had been three days since her dust up with Brittany and in that time Santana had made no effort to contact the jock. And Landon was more than a little miffed with how everything went down. She wasn't ready to give in to the beautiful woman just yet.

Santana sighed loudly. She had wanted to talk to football player earlier but Brittany had been so clingy the past few days that she couldn't (and truthfully didn't want to) pull away long enough to seek the other girl out. Brittany was her priority and no matter what happened with Landon, it would always be that way.

During her time with the dancer, Santana had tried to gently nudge the quiet girl into explaining what happened with Landon. Outside of the heat of the moment, Santana knew that it must have been Brittany who approached the jock; she'd have no reason to be in the locker room otherwise. What Santana didn't know, however, was what the blonde went in there to do and why it had ended so heatedly. The only thing Brittany would reveal was that they had had a misunderstanding, and when Santana pushed for more, Brittany deflected, simply saying that she didn't want to talk about it.

Truthfully, part of Santana was relieved. There wasn't anything she wouldn't do for the blonde (well that was a blatant lie, but Santana didn't want to think about the things she wouldn't do for Brittany). That didn't mean, however, that she was particularly eager to delve into the drama that Brittany and Landon had gotten into. Santana would have braved it for Brittany, but if the beautiful blonde didn't want to press the issue, she was satisfied with letting things drop too.

Landon, however, eyes closed, expression dismissive, didn't seem as interested in simply letting things go.

Santana ran her eyes down the jock's body, taking in her lean arms and taut stomach. She swallowed hard, trying to clear the knot that had formed in her throat. "Look," she started, "I may have overreacted the other day."

Landon raised an eyebrow and cracked open an eye.

"Okay," Santana huffed. "I overreacted. Brittany told me it was just a misunderstanding and I," she paused, "was a bitch to you."

Landon opened both eyes and sat up slowly, swinging her legs off the bench and holding her hands between her knees. "So now that _Brittany's_ said it was a misunderstanding it must be so, right? Forget that that's what I told you three fucking days ago. Shit," she shook her head.

There was a long pause, and Santana shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans, unsure.

"Santana," Landon looked up at her and sighed. "You're stunning," she said, blinking against the glare of the sun off Santana's skin and tickle of moisture at the corners of her eyes. "And I'd really like to get to know you better. But you need to meet me halfway. I need to know that you want to be with me too."

Santana sat herself down heavily on the bench next to Landon. "I'm sorry, okay. Is that what you need to hear?"

"Fuck, Santana. I'm not trying to break you." Landon pressed her palms to eyes and inhaled. She didn't cry in front of people. When her father kicked her ass and shoved her out the door, she didn't shed a tear. "I don't know." She shook her head. "This thing you have with Brittany…you gotta let me know what I'm getting myself into here."

"Brittany's…" Santana sighed. "Brittany's just been out of sorts lately. You have to understand that Britt doesn't do conflict. She's the happiest, most easy-going person I know. She gets along with everyone."

Landon let out a short, derisive laugh.

"It's true! I mean she even likes the gleeks for crying out loud." Santana shook her head. "She's just…been going through stuff recently and you being new and everything…I don't know. It just made her go a little crazy." Santana smiled lightly and shrugged. "You have that affect on people." She nudged the other girl with her shoulder, and Landon chuckled genuinely at that. "Brittany's my best friend. I'm used to sticking up for her. I never had to ask questions in the past."

"But?" Landon urged.

Santana sighed, "but I shouldn't have bitched at you without knowing what was going on. I," she hesitated, "I like you too. I want to get to know you too."

The two girls sat quietly together, staring out at the empty football field. For Landon it was a vision of all she had yet to accomplish. For Santana it was just another space she couldn't wait to get the hell away from.

"So," Santana continued after an extended silence, "are we okay again?"

The tall jock rubbed her hands together and looked up. Santana was beautiful in the sunlight. Hell, Santana was beautiful everywhere. And Landon found that she couldn't resist the girl, even if everything in her belly told her to stay away from the drama she brought with her.

Landon looked down at her hands. "I want to take you somewhere tonight," she said quietly.

Santana turned her head to the jock. The tall girl wouldn't meet her gaze. She reached out and took Landon's hand. "What time you picking me up?"

Landon looked up quickly, smirking at her. She ducked her head and smiled, long bangs falling into her glittering eyes.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

_There ain't a reason you and me should be alone  
>Tonight, yeah, baby! (Tonight, yeah, baby!)<br>And I got a reason that you're who should take me home tonight (Tonight)_

Rachel glared at Santana from across the piano. She spat the lyrics out as if she could physically wound the other girl with them. Rachel had tried being nice to the caustic brunette. She really had. She very generously shared her surefire 12-step program for super stardom. She made Santana one of her famous vocal cleansing drinks. She even volunteered her styling services so the other girl wouldn't look so…_available_ during their run-through in front of glee club.

But Santana had met each generous gesture with a sarcastic comment, a contemptuous eye roll, or a physical threat. The acerbic teenager had even hid Rachel's vintage copy of the _Yentl_ soundtrack. It was three days before she found it tucked behind a planter in her dad's den. _When did she even get in here?_

For her part, Santana thought she deserved a fucking medal. She had hated every moment she spent practicing this stupid duet. She had too much on her plate to give a damn about breathing exercises, emoting like a Broadway star, or the latest herbal concoction Patti LuPone had endorsed. Yet there was Rachel, yammering in her ear at every turn. When the perky brunette had suggested she borrow one of her animal print sweaters so that she "didn't look so _garish_" on stage, Santana nearly punched a hole through the other girl's closet door.

She narrowed her eyes and growled the next verse.

_It's hard to feel the rush, to brush the dangerous  
>I'm gonna run right to, to the edge with you<br>Where we can both fall far in love_

The two girls stalked each other around the piano, looking like they were prepping for a cage fight rather than singing a love song. Glee club watched with wide eyes and slack jaws. At the end, the smattering of applause spoke to how very awkward the whole performance had been.

"Okay," Mr. Shuester began. "That was certainly…emotional. I'm not quite sure it's the exact emotion we need, but good job. Um, maybe next time think about, you know, smiling and uh, toning down the glaring just a notch. But good effort!" He patted both girls on the back and ushered them back to their seats. "Okay! We have Invitationals coming up in a month and while 'Edge of Glory' is coming along, we still need two more songs to complete the set list. So for this week, I want each of you to come up with a song you think will wow the judges and get us one step closer to our real goal, a national championship!"

A collection of cheers resounded in the choir room.

"That's it for today," Schuester called out, gathering some materials off the piano. "Oh, and Landon, you need get your dress size to me so that I can put the order in by Friday."

Landon sat up stiffly. "Dress size?"

"Yea," he pulled a sheet out from the stack of papers in his hands. "Here's what the girls will be wearing for the Invitational." He handed her a picture of a short, light yellow dress with a tight bodice and frilly skirt. She frowned.

"Uh, that's okay Mr. Schue. I'll just wear what the guys wear." She tried handing the offensive image back to him.

"No go, Landon. This is what the girls are wearing. Come on," he smiled and tapped her on the shoulder jovially, "you'll look beautiful, trust me. Stop by my office tomorrow and we'll get you all set up." Before Landon could add anything, he was out the door, notebooks and loose sheets of paper held precariously in his hands.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

When Landon said she wanted to take her somewhere, the last place Santana thought she'd be going was a middle school basketball game between Carmel Intermediate and Saint Anthony's School for Boys. But there she was, sitting in the last row of bleachers, clutching a hot dog in one hand and a diet Coke in the other.

"Not that I'm complaining or anything," Santana began, "but what the hell are we doing here?"

"That's you not complaining?" Landon laughed. Santana just shrugged and took a sip of her soda. "Hey, you got the best seat in the house, the world's most perfect food, and a totally hot chick sitting next to you. What's to complain about?" she said cheekily.

"O-kay," Santana drawled, turning her attention to the game. Carmel was totally kicking those Anthony boys' asses and although Santana didn't actually dislike basketball, she just couldn't bring herself to care about some middle school game that didn't even involve McKinley High feeder schools. She watched Landon clap wildly at every Carmel basket and yell loudly at the refs for every perceived bad call. The tall jock brought her fingers to her lips and let out a deafening whistle when number 13 landed a smooth three pointer. Nothing but net.

"Is this some kind of lesbian ritual I don't know about?" Santana finally blurted.

"What?" Landon laughed, taking her eyes off the game.

"Why are we _here_?" Santana hated sounding whiny but she couldn't figure out what they were doing.

"Okay, okay," Landon put her drink down and pointed out onto the court. "See number 13 there?" Santana nodded. "That's my brother, Almon."

Santana took in the lanky boy. He was tall and lean like his sister. He was darker in complexion than Landon and his shaved head emphasized oversized ears, but he had his sister's high cheek bones and hazel eyes. Santana knew he would be really handsome once he grew into his features.

"I can see the resemblance," she said.

Landon smiled broadly at that. "Thanks." She ducked her head for a second and took a deep breath. Santana could see that she was preparing herself for something difficult. Finally, Landon gestured toward the front of the stands. "You see that couple in the first row?" Santana followed Landon's line of sight and saw an imposing, well-dressed man sitting with a slight but equally well-dressed woman. A young boy, who Santana guessed must have been around seven, sat between them, wiggling excitedly in his seat at the action on the court. "Those are my parents and my brother, Hani."

Santana focused more intently on the pair. They were striking.

Landon's father was dark and broad. His short, well-kept hair was stark white, contrasting dramatically with his dark skin. He wore an expensive dress shirt that was rolled up over thick forearms. Santana could see him shout something at his son running down the court and was grateful she wasn't on the receiving end of his critique.

Landon's mother was tall but slight. She had narrow shoulders that drooped slightly and Santana could hear her own mother chastising her bad posture. She sat up a little straighter on the bench. The blonde woman was very fair, very delicate-looking. She wore her long, flaxen hair in a tight, impeccably neat bun and held her arm loosely around her son's shoulders. When the woman turned to say something softly to the young boy, Santana could see that she had high cheekbones and a thin, Quinn-esque nose.

Landon seemed to be the perfect amalgam of both her parents.

"Um," Santana started. She hated parentals. The only pair she could tolerate were Brittany's and that's because they were so _Brittany_ that being around them was like getting a glimpse into what Brittany would be like when she was older, when she had a family and household of her own. And images of a grown-up Brittany chasing after toddlers, baking cookies in cute little aprons, and pushing a lawn mower around in baggy coveralls (Santana had a thing for workingman-Brittany, okay) made Santana giddy.

Santana _hated_ parentals. But she still felt guilty over the locker room incident and she thought she owed it to the jock to be nice. Or, nic_er_ at least. "Did you want to sit with them?" she offered.

Landon shook her head. She sat silently for a moment, rubbing her hands together. When she spoke, her voice was low and Santana had to strain to hear her over the crowd. "They kicked me out when I told them I was gay," she said quietly. "My dad's old school Egyptian and he said I was a bad influence and he didn't want me _infecting_ Almon and Hani." Landon laughed without humor. "Like the pharaohs weren't fucking like bunnies back in the day." She sighed and glanced up at Santana. "I was 14."

Santana's chest tightened. She wasn't sure she was ready to hear this. She had already imagined any number of horrific scenarios that accompanied coming out in Lima, Ohio…to conservative, Catholic parents who didn't necessarily care about what she did as long as she didn't shame the family in the process. She wasn't sure she could handle hearing a worst-case scenario story firsthand.

She wanted to tell Landon to stop but her throat closed up and her mouth was too dry to speak.

Landon continued slowly. "I've basically been living with distant relatives on my mom's side. God forbid my father's family find out he sired a gay kid, right?" She stared out onto the court, remembering her father's rage and her mother's quiet acquiescence. "When one relative gets tired of me they ship me off to the next. I was lucky I got to spend almost two years at MLK before having to move to McKinley." She shrugged, forcing herself out of her memories. "This is the only time I get to see my brothers. They don't know I'm here and I can't talk to them, but it's something." Landon smiled sadly.

"Why are you telling me all this?" Santana asked softly, her voice scratchy and hoarse.

"Santana," Landon started, turning to look at the young girl who seemed so fragile in that moment. "I know how hard coming out can be. I know how much there is to lose. And I'm not trying to scare you. I certainly don't want to you take my experience as reason not to be out and open. I definitely don't regret it." She paused and took Santana's hand. "I just want you to know me. And I want you to know that I will never pressure you to do something you're not ready for. I'll be there for you whatever you decide whenever you decide it." Landon smirked and nudged Santana with her shoulder. "I'm not the kind of girl who needs a lot of public fanfare, anyway." She ran her thumb across the back of Santana's knuckles and smiled. "You're enough for me, Santana. As is. End of sentence."

Santana flicked her eyes up to look into Landon's. She swallowed hard, losing herself momentarily in the vibrant depths of the other girl's gaze. She was so, _so_ beautiful.

She just wasn't Brittany.

But at this moment in her life, maybe that's exactly what Santana needed.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"So what did you think?" Landon asked as they made their way out of the arena and towards Landon's pickup. She had her arm draped casually over Santana's shoulders.

"It certainly wasn't what I expected the night to be." Landon wagged her eyebrows and smirked, and Santana backhanded her in the belly. "I wasn't expecting _that_ either," she laughed at the tall girl. "But it was cool. Your brother's really good."

"Yea. He's totally going to be a beast when he gets older. He's already like a foot taller than when I saw him last season!" Landon reached out to open the door for Santana.

"Landon." The tall girl froze at her name. The voice was deep and familiar, still laced with the animosity and steel she remembered from their last meeting. She didn't have to turn to know who beckoned.

As calmly as she could, she opened the door for Santana and ushered her into the car. "Stay here. Whatever happens, just stay in the truck." She made sure to make eye contact with Santana who looked back at her with confusion and a little fear, but Santana nodded her consent.

From the safety of the pickup, Santana watched Landon approach her father. Her shoulders were hunched and she already looked defeated. Santana had never seen the confident jock look so small. Although they were equally matched in height, Landon's dad seemed to tower over her, his thick arms and barrel chest making the girl look overly thin and…breakable.

Santana couldn't hear their discussion through the glass but she watched the scene intently. Landon's father stood right in her face, gesturing fiercely at his daughter. Even from a distance Santana could see the veins in the older man's neck pulse and bulge as he ranted at the stationary girl. Just behind him, Landon's mother was holding Hani tight to her legs, shielding his face in her skirt. The woman didn't look at her daughter, focusing instead on the top of Hani's head. Almon was fidgeting next to his father. It looked like he wanted to interject, step in, do _something_, whether it was to pull his father back or push his sister away she couldn't tell.

Santana watched Landon clench her fists at her sides but she never looked up, never met his angry glare. The normally commanding jock just stood there, enduring the verbal assault without response. Suddenly, Landon's father reeled back and slapped Landon hard across the face. For a moment, Landon's eyes flashed up to her father's, finally making contact. For a second it looked like she was going to retaliate, her fists flexing rhythmically at her sides, but after a moment she simply ducked her head once again and clenched her jaw.

"Oh hell no." Santana threw the car door open and walked directly up to Landon's father, pushing him forcibly in the chest. "Get your fucking hands off her! Who the fuck do you think you are?" she yelled.

"Santana!" Landon's eyes were wide as she tried to pull the feisty girl away from her father.

"No!" She pulled out of Landon's grasp, "what the hell kind of father hits his own child! What's wrong with you? Are you fucking insane? And _you_," she pointed at Landon's mother, "how could you let him do that to her! And then you send her away like she's fucking nothing! She was 14! She was a fucking kid! _Your_ fucking kid!"

"Santana, please!"

"You're lucky there are children here, old man," she turned back to Landon's dad, "otherwise I'd go Lima Heights all over that expensive Armani shirt of yours and trust me, blood's a bitch to get out."

"Almon! Get them to the car," Landon pulled her brother by the arm and pushed her shocked family towards their black BMW.

"Yea, you better run! And if you raise a hand to her again I'll make sure it's the last thing you do with it! Razor blades, baby," she waved her hand over her head, "all up in here." She glared at the retreating man's back.

"Santana," Landon implored as she pulled the pissed brunette back towards her truck.

"No, Landon! I know what you're going to say, and I'm sorry they're your parents, but no one has the right to do that to you-"

"Santana-"

"You can't just take that crap. And what was up with that mother of yours! She just stood there, and _you_," she pushed Landon on the shoulder, continuing to move with the girl toward the pickup, "you just took it! I saw you out there. I know you wanted to hit him. How could you just stand there? I don't understand! You know you don't deserve that-"

"Santana!" Landon finally shouted, grabbing the smaller girl by the shoulders and pushing her up against her truck.

"What!"

Landon crashed her lips against the angry girl, pushing her body into Santana's, trapping her against her pickup. She held the small girl tightly around the shoulders. No one had ever stood up for her like that. The tall jock was used to protecting others, being strong for everyone else. Seeing Santana step up to her father—her _father_!—made her flush. Her skin tingled everywhere she was pressed against the dark-haired girl. Landon snaked her tongue out to brush against a plump lower lip, trying to make the other girl feel a fraction of what she was feeling.

And Santana, Santana was stunned. All of her anger and frustration seemed to bleed out of her in an instant. All she could feel was Landon. Her soft, plush lips moving firmly across her own, the heat of the other girl's body sinking into her, long, strong fingers moving from her shoulders to the back of her neck, pulling her in close. It was wet and hard and soft and rough. Santana reached out tentatively at first, grazing her fingertips lightly against Landon's sides. As the kiss intensified, she ran her hands down the tall woman's body, grabbing the jock at the hips and squeezing tightly.

Landon pulled back, breathless. "Stop." She breathed deeply. "Talking." She held her lips close, letting them brush against Santana's as she spoke.

"Stopping," was all the fiery woman could get out. She looked up and was lost in the girl's shimmering eyes.

Landon smiled as she leaned in and captured Santana's lips once again.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Okay, I know some people (a lot?) are going to hate, hate, **_**hate**_** this chapter. All I can say in my defense is that I think it's something that had to happen. Come on, you knew they had to at least kiss! :) There are still some things that need to be worked out before Santana and Brittany get together (at least in this story; they should totally be an item already in the actual show! :p). As always, please review if you get the chance. Let me know what you're thinking. All of the reviews and alerts warm the soul. Thanks, everyone!**


	13. Chapter 12

**A/N: Thank you so much for all of the beautiful reviews for the last chapter! They were completely inspiring and just made my day. As I'm sure you've already surmised, this story does not follow Season Three developments. So the glee club in the story consists of: Artie, Brittany, Finn, Kurt, Landon, Mercedes, Mike, Puck, Quinn, Rachel, Santana, and Tina. I left Sam out since it works better for pairing people up.**

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything.

Chapter Twelve

Brittany wasn't feeling good. She'd been battling an upset stomach ever since Santana dropped her off after school. She curled herself up on her bed and looked over at a picture resting on her bedside table. She and Santana were jumping in the air, holding hands and grinning stupidly at each other. She traced a finger over the photograph, running the tip down Santana's long hair, following the curve of her back and ending at her sneakered feet.

After her confrontation with Landon, Brittany had clung to her best friend fiercely. Every time Santana even hinted that she had to part with the blonde, Brittany put on her best pout and puppy eyes, and complained about her sore tummy. And the dark-haired girl always relented, scooping Brittany into her arms and holding her close. Santana would rub circles on the tall girl's abdomen and whisper comforting words in her ear. If Brittany's pout was particularly pronounced, she'd sing or hum softly to distract and soothe her.

But with Santana gone, Brittany's stomach resumed its ominous rumbling. Her mother recently gave her a book of Hawaiian legends and she imagined the jealous fire goddess Pele and her cloud-bearing sister Hi'iaka were battling it out in her sensitive tummy.

The new quarterback just made her _so_ tense. Part of Brittany thought she'd stumbled on a great new workout; every time the girl was near or she simply imagined the jock with Santana, Brittany's muscles contracted almost painfully. She saw a news report once where people paid lots of money to tape electrodes to their bodies so that an electric current would tense and pulse their muscles for them. She was getting it naturally and for free. But Brittany'd let herself get all flabby and fat if it meant Santana was hers. Openly hers.

Truthfully, Brittany was having trouble shaking off Landon's coming out story too. She rolled onto her back and bit her lip. The blonde knew Santana was worried about revealing herself to their peers and the possible social consequences they might face as a couple, but they never talked about how Santana's family might react.

For as long as Brittany had known Santana, she had only met her parents a handful of times. That spoke to how involved they were in their young daughter's life. They'd been letting Santana roam around an empty house unsupervised since she was 12, and although the smaller girl said she enjoyed the freedom, Brittany knew she craved their attention and acceptance. And Brittany wanted that for her. She did. But because they were so distant, seemingly indifferent to Santana's life, Brittany never really gave their reaction any thought. Now, however, with Landon's story running through her head, Brittany started to worry over what she might be opening Santana up to.

Brittany stared up at her ceiling. When they were 14, she and Santana had covered it with glow in the dark stars, trying to mimic her favorite constellations as best they could. The lithe dancer smiled at the memory.

She had never seen Santana's parents be openly hostile to the girl. They never yelled or disciplined her in front of the blonde. They didn't seem to have many rules for her at all really. They'd never hit Santana. Right? They wouldn't send her away.

Pele and Hi'iaka were at it again and Brittany rubbed her tummy softly.

She just didn't get what the big friggin' deal was. Why anyone would care that Santana liked girls instead of guys just didn't make sense. Girls were way cooler anyway; they were softer and smelled a lot better, and at least Santana wouldn't have to worry about getting pregnant. What parent of a teenager wouldn't think that was an awesome bonus?

Brittany didn't get it, but she was starting to question her plan. After summer break, Brittany told herself she wouldn't push Santana but she wouldn't give into her either. She wanted to give Santana space to come to terms with herself so that when Santana was ready, they could be together without hiding anymore. She didn't think she was asking for too much. It was what was best for Santana after all. She was just looking out for her best friend, right? This wasn't about her needs at all really. She always worked at Santana's pace. Just because she wouldn't be with her now, while Santana was still determined to keep them secret, didn't mean she didn't love the girl, didn't mean she didn't want to be with her. Santana knew that, right?

Brittany didn't want to push and she didn't want to give in. But now she felt like she was losing the girl in the process. She clutched her belly and rolled on her side, tucking her long legs up to her chest.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Santana was worn out. After her epic kiss with Landon, Santana was determined to make time for the new girl. She wanted to show the jock that she was important to her. And if that meant they found themselves engaged in heated make out sessions in Santana's room after school, so be it.

But Santana also had Brittany to think about, and she didn't want the beautiful dancer to feel second-best. She knew what that felt like.

So Santana found herself trying to make time for both women separately. She'd spend a few hours with Landon then rush over to Brittany's where they'd stay up till the wee hours of the night giving each other makeovers, gossiping, and holding each other close. After a week of juggling the two girls' needs, Santana was exhausted.

The worst part was the time she spent just hanging out with each girl. She'd go to the movies twice. Eat dinner twice. Gorge on junk food twice. Share stories from her day twice. Not only was it getting a bit tedious, it was also becoming super expensive. Her gas bill alone had already surpassed what she spent on shoes last month!

All Santana wanted was for the two girls to get along well enough for the three of them of hang out together from time to time. She'd never _do_ anything with Landon in front of Brittany anyway, so things didn't need to be awkward between them, right? (For as much as Santana tried to be a master of social games, she really wasn't very good at understanding human behavior. That bringing together the love of her life and her current paramour might not be the best idea didn't really register. She was only thinking of the convenience of having her two favorite people in the same space and how much time that could save.) She assumed that if she kept everything PG with both girls, things would work out and neither would feel neglected or be put off.

Brittany and Landon did have a few things in common and Santana believed that if she could just get the two women to actually _talk_ to each other, the three of them could make an awesome team and rule the school. Santana would be the brains, Brittany the charm, and Landon the muscle. It was fucking genius.

She just needed to get the other two girls on board.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"San." It was whispered sweetly in her ear. She hummed at the sound, rolling onto her side and sighing contently.

"San." It was surer now, closer and a bit louder, but still wistful and breathy. Santana curled herself around a pillow and buried her head in its softness.

"_San_." There was a whine and a shake and Santana clutched a bit more desperately to the pillow in her arms.

"Santana!" Annoyed. It was definitely annoyed now.

With a groan pulled deep from the center of her chest, Santana rolled onto her back, releasing the pillow and blinking up into bright blue eyes.

"What?" she slurred.

"You fell asleep," the blonde pouted down at the girl.

"Sorry, Britt." She yawned loudly and rubbed her eyes, pulling herself up slowly to sit on the edge of the bed. Brittany stood in front of her, arms crossed with her best pout on full display. "What were we doing again?" The last thing Santana remembered was watching _Project Runway_ and hurling snide remarks at the tv with Brittany chuckling beside her.

"Why are you so sleepy all the time?" she asked, sticking her bottom lip out more than Santana thought possible.

"I'm sorry, B," she repeated. "I just got a lot on my plate lately."

Brittany furrowed her brow and looked around Santana's room curiously. Seeing the girl's confusion, Santana shook her head and smiled. "Not a real plate, B. I just have a lot of stuff to do. I haven't had a lot of time for sleep."

Brittany was still confused. She knew she and Santana had been staying up late recently, but that was nothing new. It never seemed to affect the dark-haired girl in the past. She bit her lip, worrying the sensitive flesh between her teeth. "Why do we have to get together so late then? Maybe we should meet earlier?"

Oblivious to the dancer's discomfort, Santana yawned deeply and stretched her arms over her head. She patted the bed next to her, beckoning Brittany to sit. "About that B," she paused, thinking of how best to broach the subject. "I need to ask you a favor."

"Anything, San. You know that." Brittany sat beside her and took Santana's hand, stroking it gently.

Santana blew out a long breath. "I need you to start…getting along with Landon." She felt Brittany tense beside her, the blonde's grip on her hand tightening painfully. "Ah, watch it there, B," she said, removing her hand and shaking it out. "It would just really mean a lot to me if the two of you could, you know, get along better."

Without looking at her best friend, Brittany quietly asked, "why?"

Santana sighed. "Come on, Britt Britt. You know me and Landon are friends. It'd be really nice if we could all hang out together and stuff." She smiled shyly at the blonde. "You're my favorite ladies."

Brittany didn't look up at the insistent girl, knowing her resolve would break in her bright brown eyes.

But Santana was persistent. "Brittany," she took the other girl's hand in hers once again. "You know I love you. You're my best friend. I just want you to give her a chance. Please? For me?"

Brittany looked up into soft eyes and a tentative grin. She loved this girl so much it physically hurt at times. Everything in her was telling her to deny Santana's request, to simply grab the girl and shake her till she realized she didn't need anyone else.

But she couldn't. She couldn't deny Santana friends, especially one who could share experiences with her and help her deal with her fears. And she couldn't risk the possibility that in distancing herself from Landon she'd distance herself from Santana as well. She didn't think she had a lot of options in this instance.

"I'll try," she whispered.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"Hey, Mr Schue," Landon knocked lightly on the open door to Mr Schuester's office.

"Hey, Landon. Come in and have a seat." He rifled through stacks of papers littering his desk. "Let me just find the order form and we can get you all set up for the Invitational. Now, where'd that thing run off to…" he trailed off, searching.

"Yea, about that," Landon said hesitantly as she took her seat. She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the desk in front of her and clasping her hands together. "Mr Schue I'm really not comfortable wearing that outfit on stage. I'd really like to go with what the guys are wearing."

Schuester leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms behind his head. "Landon, I understand that it may not be your exact style, but glee club isn't about individuals. It's about working towards something as a team. You above all should understand the importance of team unity."

Landon sat back and ran her hands roughly through her hair. "I'm not trying to stand out, Mr Schue. I'm actually trying to _not_ make a spectacle of myself." She placed her hands flat against the desk. "If I wear that," she flicked the picture of the girls' outfit sitting on Schue's desk, "I'm gonna look ridiculous. I'll look like a football player in a dress because that's exactly what I'll be. It's hard enough for me to gain the respect of the guys as is. I can't wear that, Mr Schue."

Schuester was thoughtful, mulling over the jock's situation. "Landon, I appreciate your place on the football team. Heck, I admire it! But I can't be seen giving you special treatment."

"This is not about special treatment!" Landon had heard that excuse her entire life. Whenever she tried out for any sport that didn't have a female equivalent she was told she couldn't participate because of all the "special treatment" she'd require. She was anxious and determined to make the choir director understand how terrible an idea this all was. "I'm thinking about the team here. I am. If you put me in that thing I'll be the only thing anyone is looking at because I'll look ridiculous! _That_," she flicked the picture again, "would make me a distraction."

"I hear what you're saying, but I can't give in to personal requests, Landon. If I start with you, then everyone in glee would think it was fair game to make their own demands. I mean, what if Kurt wants to wear the girls' outfit?"

"Okay," Landon started slowly. She was getting really pissed. She pushed up out of her seat, her hands still resting flat against the desk, and leaned forward. "First off, that's not the same thing and you know it. No one's gonna give two shits if they see me in pants and don't pretend like they will." Her voice was quiet and deep. "Secondly, just because Kurt's gay doesn't mean he wants to wear women's clothes. Homophobic much?"

"Now wait just a minute-"

"Third, we're already short a guy for the choreography. It doesn't make sense to put me in a dress when we need more people in male roles to pair off for the routine anyway. I mean can you really see me in that thing, twirling around with Puck? That'd be way more awkward and uncomfortable than if you just paired me with Santana and-"

"Landon," Schuester cut in, "if this is some backhanded way to make time with Santana, you can forget it. These are the costumes and we'll work on pairing people up later."

"This is not about hooking up! Put me with Tina or Mercedes then; I don't really care. It just doesn't make sense to make me wear that thing when we need a extra guy anyway. No one will even notice me, I swear. No one's gonna care," she pleaded.

"This is what the girls are wearing. End of discussion. We are a team, Landon. And if you can't get on board, then maybe this is not the team for you."

Landon shook her head and shoved her way out of Schuester's office, letting the door slam loudly against the frame as she left.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Santana selected the Lima Factory Outlet Mall as the site of her first outing with both Brittany and Landon, neither of whom were terribly ecstatic to see the other. Santana felt the mall would give them enough to do to keep everyone occupied, and if something did go down, she hoped the public setting would limit what the two girls could do to each other.

For most of the trip, Santana was flanked by a stiff Brittany and an equally tense Landon as they walked from one store to another. So far they'd done the usual rounds. Well, usual for Santana and Brittany; Santana didn't know what Landon's usual mall routine was or if she even had one. But the trio hit Guess, Forever 21, and Ralph Lauren in succession, and the two best friends joked and laughed as they modeled different outfits. Landon dutifully held purses as the pair changed, made positive comments at all the appropriate times, and hauled their quickly accumulating purchases from store to store without complaint. She did shoot a glare that could melt steel at Santana when Brittany patted her on the head as she bent down to pick up all of their packages, but Santana gave her a pleading look and she just swallowed hard and followed quietly.

For the most part, Landon didn't mind playing pack mule to the two girls. It gave her the opportunity to observe the pair closely. When Brittany wasn't focused on actively ignoring Landon, she was incredibly playful and cheery. The blonde excited easily, everything from oversized sunglasses to footie pajamas throwing her into fits of giggles and impromptu runway walks. And her energy was infectious. Landon found herself laughing along with the pair from afar.

There was no denying that blonde was beautiful, and effortlessly so. She possessed that rare mix of grace and goofiness that was stunning, disarming even. Landon could see what drew Santana to the girl. It wasn't just her beauty, beautiful people abound in the world; it was the ease with which she moved through life, her utter disregard for social norms and other people's expectations. She only had eyes for Santana, and as long as the petite brunette was smiling, the dancer seemed happy bobbing to the beat of what Landon was sure was an invisible, symbol-clinking monkey that only she could hear.

But then there was Santana. And in rare moments, Landon could swear Santana could hear it too, and the normally abrasive teenager softened and relaxed, dissolving into the same goofiness Brittany lived in without care. The normally guarded girl seemed to settle into herself, and the small creases at the corners of her eyes vanished and the constant tension in her jaw eased.

Landon would be lying if she said she wasn't envious of their bond and more than a little worried about how familiar, almost intimate they acted around each other. There was nothing overtly sexual about their interactions but the absolute care and affection they exchanged was undeniable. It was visible in the light touches and knowing smiles they shared, and Landon felt very much like an outsider looking in at times.

She shook her head, pulling her eyes away from the pair for a moment. Landon _really_ liked Santana. She was brash and sexy and vulnerable when she allowed herself to let go. Landon loved it all. She wanted to challenge her, ravish her, and protect her all at once. At this point, she had assurances from both girls that they weren't together. And if opportunity existed, Landon couldn't bring herself to _not_ take it.

She watched Brittany grab a shearling deerstalker off a rack and pull it low over Santana's head, covering her ears and part of her eyes. Landon's breath caught in her throat. In that ridiculous hat, in the middle of a crowded retail store, smiling and laughing with abandon, Santana Lopez was breathtaking.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

As the threesome made their way to the food court, Landon transferred the girls' purchases to her right hand and flung her other arm across Santana's shoulders, tugging her slightly to her side.

"This has certainly been a workout," she joked, curling her bicep and lifting the packages up and down.

Not to be out done, Brittany wrapped her left arm across Santana's waist and tucked her hand into Santana's back pocket, scratching the firm backside briefly as she worked her hand in. The tall blonde moved closer, wedging the small girl between her long body and the muscular jock's.

"Um, guys," Santana stopped after tripping over her own feet. "I'm kinda getting squished here." She pushed the girls gently away, giving herself space to breathe. The girls glared at each other over the top of Santana's head.

They settled on a small circular table in the food court. Brittany bought a soft pretzel and a milkshake; Landon decided on two giant slices of pizza; and Santana had an iced coffee and a pastry. Honestly, Santana had only wanted a coffee, but once Landon paid for her drink, Brittany insisted on buying her something too.

Santana sighed. This wasn't exactly how she hoped the two girls would get on together. Rather than finding common ground and getting to know each other, they spent most of their interactions trying to one-up each other. While Santana loved attention and to be doted on especially, the back-and-forth possessiveness was making her uncomfortable. Landon nudged her toe under the table and she looked up.

"So," the jock smiled shyly at her. "Is this like a normal haul for you," she asked, gesturing to the numerous bags cluttered around their small table.

Santana shrugged and smiled. "A girl's gotta stay up on fashion, you know?"

"I think you bought more clothes today than I actually own," she joked.

"I'm not surprised," Santana chuckled drolly and Brittany snorted into her milkshake.

"Hey!" Landon pretended to take offense but she couldn't stop the grin tugging at the corners of her lips. "Something wrong with the way I dress?"

"No, no, nothing wrong _exactly_." She drew out the last word and tried to keep herself from laughing. "It's just a little…monotonous."

"I have a cream for that," Brittany jumped in quickly.

Landon quirked an eyebrow at the blonde but Brittany simply went back to tearing off little chunks of pretzel and arranging them in an intricate pattern on an open napkin. Once she was satisfied with her design, she picked up one on the end and popped it in her mouth.

Landon leaned back in her chair and stretched her legs out on the side of the table. She crossed her arms behind her head. "You _love_ the way I dress," she taunted, a bit of seduction in her low voice.

Santana ran her eyes along Landon's body. The jock wore baggy, olive green cargo pants and a dark brown tank top. Santana's eyes settled on the swell of the jock's breasts that were pushed out and put on greater display due to Landon's reclining posture and raised arms.

The two girls stared at each other quietly until a flying bit of pretzel landed on Landon's cleavage with a thump, making the tall girl sit up quickly in shock.

"Sorry. Slippery," was all Brittany would say, popping another pretzel piece and chewing in an exaggerated manner.

Landon dusted herself off and sat back in her chair.

"So," Santana jumped in before Landon could say anything to the quietly smirking blonde. "Is there anywhere you wanted to go here? Britt and I kinda hijacked the shopping thing." Brittany gawked at Santana. Was she actually asking what someone else, someone who wasn't Brittany, wanted to do? That _never_ happened.

"Actually, I'm good. Saving up funds, you know?" Landon winked slyly at Santana.

"Oh really? Saving for anything in particular?" Santana asked coyly, taking a sip of her coffee, wrapping her lips sensually around the straw and sucking slowly.

"Sex isn't dating, you know?"

It was unfortunate timing for Santana as she found the liquid she just inhaled spurting onto the table as she coughed violently.

"Brittany!" she croaked out in the midst of her coughing jag.

"Um, what?" Landon asked, shock and confusion written plainly on her face.

"Sex isn't dating," Brittany shrugged, calmly taking a sip from her milkshake. "I just thought she should know that," she directed at Santana who was still trying to recuperate from her near choking incident.

"Am I missing something here?" Landon wondered, eyes flicking between the two girls slowly.

"Uh, inside joke," Santana replied awkwardly.

"Yea, _way_ inside," Brittany nodded brightly, sneaking a hand onto Santana's thigh and squeezing. "We have _tons_ of them."

Santana choked slightly again at the contact, glancing sideways at the innocent-looking blonde. "Yea, so," Santana struggled for something to redirect the conversation. "Um, since _someone_ got me stuck with Berry for that stupid duet, I'm clear for this week's glee assignment. What about you guys? You know what you're doing?" She cleared her throat and took another tentatively sip of her drink.

Landon shrugged. "I don't know. Schue's being a dick about this whole dress thing. I haven't been real inspired lately."

"What's the big deal?" Santana asked. "It's one performance. Everyone looks like crap in it anyway. 'Cept Britt and me, of course," she said with a grin and nudge toward Brittany. "Just suck it up."

"Yea, well, it's just not something I'm down with," Landon shook her head. "But, that's something I gotta work out with Schue. So I don't know. I was thinking of maybe doing some Ani DiFranco. Like 'Shameless' or 'Shy,'" she winked over at the brunette.

Santana shook her head and grinned. "You would." She turned to Brittany, "what about you, B?"

Brittany hummed a little, her brow crinkling as she thought. "'Hot N Cold' maybe."

Santana blanched a bit, the possibility of Brittany singing that particular Katy Perry tune making her shift uncomfortably in her seat.

"It's like super deep," Brittany continued.

"You should do something together." Both girls looked at Santana like she lost her mind and Brittany dug her nails into Santana's thigh roughly. "Ah, I mean both of you could put together a killer routine, I bet. And if I end up killing Berry before the competition it'll be nice to have a backup all girl duet, you know."

Santana wasn't sure what she was getting herself into. The two girls could barely stay civil when she was sitting right there between them. Who knew what they'd get into when it was just the two of them.

But she was stubborn. And more than a little lazy. She wanted this non-sexual threesome to work so she didn't have to put so much time into each relationship and she could finally get some friggin' sleep. And maybe removing herself from the equation for a bit would help the girls get along better.

So once again Santana made a rather ill-advised proposal and just hoped for the best.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the long wait. I have a general sense of where I want to go with this, but getting there has been difficult. Not sure how all the pieces come together yet. As always, I'd love to hear from you! So please review and/or drop me a PM. Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	14. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything. Not the show or the songs.

Chapter Thirteen

Brittany led Landon up to her bedroom and let the tall girl enter in front of her before shutting the door quietly. She leaned back against it, hands clasped together behind her back. She watched the jock take broad, sweeping looks around her room, taking everything in. When Landon finally looked back at her, she saw the new girl smirk and nod slightly.

"Nice. It's very…blue," Landon said, commenting on the baby blue walls, furniture, and bedspread. She walked up to Brittany's bed and ran her hand over the heavily notched headboard. "What happened here? Looks like a beaver got to it," she laughed.

Brittany shook her head. "Santana's don't go there." At Landon's confused look, Brittany sighed. "Look, we could always do this at your place if you don't like it here," she said in a huff.

"No, no. This is great. I mean you could probably fit the whole damn trailer in this room." Landon moved over to the couch and sat down. "This really is nice. You're lucky to have it."

Brittany lowered her eyes, digging her sneakered foot into the carpet. "Is it really bad where you live?" she asked softly.

Landon looked up at the quiet blonde. Her head was bent and her long blonde hair fell in soft waves around her face, obscuring her features. "It's okay," she started slowly. "I don't need much anyway." She paused before continuing softly, "gets kinda lonely though."

Brittany looked up and met Landon's hazel eyes from her perch at the doorway. "I'm sorry that happened to you," she said, her voice low and quiet.

Landon was surprised by the sincerity in the girl's voice. This was their first cordial exchange and staring into soft blue eyes laced with honest concern and sorrow, Landon could see why so many people were drawn to the beautiful blonde, why they were so quick to protect her. In that instant, Landon could really see Brittany for the first time, and what she saw caused a twinge in her heart. This girl hurt for her in that moment. Despite all the jealousy and at times outright animosity, Brittany still hurt for the pain Landon had been through, was still going through. The tall jock swallowed hard and bent her head, no longer able to stand the frank gaze.

"It is what it is," Landon replied. "Don't worry about it." It was the best she could do in that moment to reassure the girl. While she was taken with this Brittany, she wasn't ready to let her guard down completely.

Brittany moved away from the door and joined Landon on the couch, making sure to leave the middle seat open and leaning back against the armrest. She pulled a long leg up on the couch and brought it to her chest, clutching it between her arms. She rested her head on her knee and looked at the athletic teenager for a long, silent moment before turning her eyes away, staring off into empty space.

"That won't happen to Santana. Her parents aren't like that. They wouldn't care." The blonde said it with more confidence than she actually felt, hoping that speaking the words out loud would somehow make it so.

"What's she so afraid of then?"

"Her rep. What people will say about her."

Landon knew from the speed of Brittany's response that it was something she and Santana had discussed before. It felt overly rehearsed, and from the blonde's tone, it seemed like something she was supremely tired of saying.

"Are you sure that's all there is?" Landon asked.

Brittany sighed. "You don't know her. You think you do but you don't. She's stronger than you think and she can do this." There was no anger or malice in her voice, just frustration and a bit of sadness. It was almost as if the dancer was pleading with her, begging her to make it true.

Landon took in Brittany's earnest look. She wasn't sure who the blonde was trying to convince. "She will, Brittany." Landon said, their eyes locking for a moment. "She will."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

_You're hot then you're cold  
>You're yes then you're no<br>You're in then you're out  
>You're up then you're down<em>

Brittany bobbed her head up and down to the catchy, electric beat, shaking her shoulders to the music.

_You're wrong when it's right  
>It's black and it's white<br>We fight, we break up  
>We kiss, we make up<em>

"I know the song, Brittany. For the eight millionth time, I just don't think it works as a duet. " Landon sighed, annoyance ringing through her voice. She was lying flat on her back on Brittany's bed, legs hanging over the side. She tossed a small throw pillow in the air before catching it and flinging it up again. They'd been trying to decide on a song for glee for the last hour and a half and Landon swore if she had to listen to one more mindless bubblegum pop song she was going to throw Brittany's iPod out the fucking window. "I'd be a glorified backup singer in this." She flipped the pillow in the air. "I'm all for turning a solo into a duet, but it has to make sense, you know? I mean there's nothing in the song that works for two people."

"Well none of yours do either! Like, do you _only_ listen to Lebanese music?" Brittany asked, equally irritated.

"What?"

"None of this is working," Brittany pouted. She was sitting on the couch with her laptop, iPod, and docking station on the low table in front of her. She leaned back heavily and slouched into the cushions. "I don't want to sing about a maid catching me having sex with some random girl."

"That's not what 'Shy's' about, Britt."

"It's Brittany and I don't care. You can't even dance to that stuff."

"Oh my God, you so can!" Landon squeezed the pillow in both hands.

"Well _I'm_ not, so pick something else!"

At the sound of Brittany's raised voice an enormous ball of fur flew across the bed, hurling over Landon's stomach before landing on the floor and trying to shuffle its massive body under the couch between the blonde's feet.

"Holy shit!" Landon leapt off the bed and jumped onto a desk chair nearby. She clutched her chest and looked fearfully at the dark ball attempting to wedge itself beneath the couch. Her heart hammered in her ears. "What the fuck is that?"

Brittany bent down and picked up her oversized cat, placing him gently on her lap. "This is Lord Tubbington. Do you not have cats where you come from?"

"That _thing_ is not a cat! It's a woolly fucking _mammoth_!"

"Don't listen to her T," she cooed into the cat's ear while glaring at Landon who was still crouching on the chair nervously. "Come on, we have to pick something," she chided, stroking Lord Tubbington soothingly.

Landon plopped down onto the chair, straddling it and crossing her forearms over the backrest. "What about-"

"No."

"You didn't even-"

"_No_," she said emphatically.

"Well you frickin' pick then." Landon dropped her head onto her forearms and growled under her breath.

Brittany reached over Lord Tubbington and started clicking through her playlists, looking for something they could compromise on. The two girls couldn't have more different tastes in music, which Brittany thought appropriate since she didn't think she and Landon had anything in common other than Santana. They were just really different people, and it made Brittany wonder what Santana saw in the athlete, besides her obvious physical appeal that is. Sure, Landon was pretty. Okay, she was super hot, but a lot of girls were hot and Santana never really gave them a second glance. Brittany didn't think the two girls had anything in common and she wondered what it was about Landon that made her so interesting to the normally guarded brunette.

Brittany raised her eyes at the sound of Landon's buzzing phone.

The jock retrieved the worn device and flipped it open. She was greeted with a text message from Santana and Landon couldn't prevent her lips from curving into a smile.

**Folks left. Come over?**

Brittany eyed the girl from over top of her computer. Judging from her sly grin and quirked eyebrow, the dancer could guess who the text was from. She glanced at her own phone resting on the table in front of her, idle and inactive. She flicked it away with a finger and started hitting the arrow key on her computer aggressively, scrolling down the screen and tapping loudly.

**Can't. Mtg with Brittany to pick a duet. Later?**

**Cool. Call wen ur done. Have fun! :)**

**I hate you. **

"I got it!"

The jock was startled by Brittany's exclamation. She quickly closed her phone and turned her attention to the grinning blonde.

"I _so_ found the song we're doing."

Landon's eyes narrowed and her brow creased in suspicion at the dancer's devilish smirk.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Santana sat high up in the bleachers, legs stretched out and resting on the empty bench below. She looked out onto the field where the McKinley Titans were running through drills. Landon was lined up as receiver and Santana could see the jock's gloved hands twitching anxiously awaiting the start of the play.

At the snap of the ball Landon streaked down field before cutting in towards the middle. She turned for the ball only to see it sail three feet behind her. Landon slapped her hands together and shook her head. She'd been chasing Finn's errant throws all practice and she was pissed. If she thought Finn had any skill at all, she'd think he was doing it on purpose, throwing the ball just wide enough that she'd have to lay her body out in order to pull it in before landing hard on her elbows and stomach. But Finn wasn't that good, and it chaffed her ass that Bieste kept him at quarterback simply because of his supposed leadership abilities.

"Come on!" Landon ripped her helmet off her head. She approached Finn but stopped herself short of getting up into his face. "It's an inside route! Why the fuck are you throwing towards the sidelines?"

"Hey, back off! You're supposed to juke left."

"Bullshit! I ran the fucking route. You just can't throw for shit!"

"Riff! Hudson! Knock it off!" Bieste's voice cut across the field, bringing everyone one to a halt and causing a nervous silence to settle over the field. "Run it again."

Landon's nostrils flared as she exhaled. She put her helmet on and lined up, running the same play for the fourth fucking time.

When Bieste finally called an end to practice, the new girl stripped her helmet off and kicked violently at the bench she'd been riding for the past three games.

"What's your problem? " Finn barked at her. It was a no pads practice which meant most of the team was decked out in mesh shorts and a loose jersey. Even without pads, however, the two footballs looked imposing standing off against each other. The too-tall quarterback stalked up to Landon and pushed his helmet into her chest.

"You! You're my fucking problem!" Landon reached out and fisted her hand in Finn's jersey, pulling him into the tunnel that led to the boy's locker. "I don't get you Hudson. You have the whole fucking world at your fingertips and you act like a fucking victim whole time. I'm sick of your piss-poor attitude."

Finn pushed against Landon's chest with both hands, creating distance between him and the irate woman. "You know nothing about me, so don't pretend you get me. You don't! My life's not a cake walk, okay. I got a lot of fucking pressure!" Finn thumped his chest with his fist.

Landon was incredulous. This boy had it all and he was bitching to _her_? He had to be kidding. "You're a fucking idiot. You have everything. You get to have the girl. You get to play lead in glee. You're fucking quarterback. You do shit and you get to have it all, and you _still_ fucking complain at every fucking turn."

Landon approached Finn and slammed her helmet into the wall next to his head. "You think I'm gonna get a shot at college ball? I can barely get Bieste to look at me let alone put me in a game. You think some college scout's gonna take a fucking _girl_ on their squad?" She thumped her chest with her fist, and closed her eyes tightly. "High's school's all I got. This is it for me. And you, you have _everything_ in front of you," she growled through clenched teeth. "And the fucking saddest thing about this whole shit situation," she looked up into his brown eyes, holding his gaze intently, "is that I'm better than you." She exhaled slowly. "And you know it," she finished quietly before turning quickly and leaving Finn stunned and brooding.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

At the end of practice, Santana followed Landon to the girls' locker. She held back some, giving the seething woman some space to cool off.

Landon burst through the locker room door and threw her helmet violently against the lockers. "Son of a bitch!" She slapped her hand against a locker, having just enough self-control not to punch the thing and break her fucking hand. That was the last thing she needed at the moment.

"Oh calm the fuck down." Santana sauntered in and fell gracefully down onto one of the low benches. "You had a shitty practice. It happens. Get over it and convince the fucking team you should be quarterback."

"It's not that easy. I can throw a hundred perfect passes but until those Neanderthals get over the fact that I don't have a dick I'm never getting in the fucking game. I'm fucking sick of this bullshit!"

"Yea, well what are you going to do about it? Stop bitching like a little girl and _do_ something." If there was one thing Santana couldn't stand it was people who sat back and complained about their shitty situation without doing jack-all about it. She had big goals and she knew she'd never accomplish anything if she didn't get off her ass and do it herself. Nothing was going to come easily for her. And she fought, scratched, and fucking bled for everything she had, everything she'd ever accomplished. She couldn't take people who bitched and moaned and never did anything to change their situation. "Get off your ass and get to fucking work, Shariff."

Landon turned to Santana and leaned back against the cold, metal lockers. Her pulse raced, adrenalin coursing through her blood, making her skin hot and flush. She took in the beautiful brunette lounging casually on the bench before her.

Santana could see the change in Landon's eyes, from pale green anger to vibrant, dark gold desire. She swallowed hard, breathing in the scent of fresh rain and sweat that was so Landon it made her lightheaded.

The jock pushed off from the locker and moved slowly toward Santana. She dropped to her knees in front of her and ran her hands up the smaller girl's jeans-covered thighs before stopping at her slender hips.

Santana exhaled forcefully through her nose, trying to settle her suddenly racing heartbeat.

"You're so fucking boss," Landon spoke slowly and softly in the echoing locker room. She leaned in and pressed her forehead against the stunning brunette. "What are you so afraid of?" she whispered into the girl's soft cheek.

Santana flinched, jerking her head away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Landon sighed and sat back on her heels. She squeezed Santana's hips before leaning in once again and running her nose against Santana's. "Don't…freak out. I…" she paused briefly. "I just want to know how to help you. How to make you feel safe." Landon cupped Santana's face before snaking long fingers behind her neck and pulling her in close. "What are you so afraid of?"

Santana flicked her eyes up to meet Landon's. She watched them glitter from gold to green to gold-flecked blue. She reached out and clutched the jock's sweat-dampened hair, curling long locks in her fist. Right before she pressed her full lips against Landon's, she whispered, "everything."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"Alright!" Schue exclaimed, clapping his hands together to get the group's attention. "Who wants to start us off with a song for the Invitational?"

Brittany's arm shot up and Landon rolled her eyes. "Riff and I are totally ready Mr Schue."

Santana smiled broadly, happy that the two girls were getting along well enough to collaborate on the assignment. Both of them had kept their routine secret, no matter how hard Santana pressed the pair. She was super excited to see what they had come up with and she grinned stupidly over at the leggy blonde. Although the two girls had retained their distance in school, always sitting apart and avoiding direct contact as much as possible, Santana was hopeful that this duet signaled a tenuous truce between the girls and that they could finally work on becoming the awesome team she knew they could be.

"Terrific, Brittany! Let's hear it!" Schue encouraged.

The two girls made their way to the front of the room, moving in opposite directions. Brittany went over to Brad and handed him their music before leaning up against the piano. Landon took up space across the room, eyeing the tall blonde from afar.

The band started the song and Santana blanched. She recognized it immediately and her eyes flashed between the two women nervously.

Brittany belted out the first lines, moving deliberately to stand in front of Santana.

_She, she ain't real,  
>She ain't gonna be able to love you like I will,<em>

The lithe dancer gestured aggressively towards Landon who narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

_She is a stranger,  
>You and I have history,<br>Or don't you remember?  
><em>  
>Brittany turned her attention to Santana. Her body moved to the beat of the music but her eyes bored into the nervous brunette.<p>

_Sure, she's got it all,  
>But, baby, is that really what you want?<em>

Santana tried to look everywhere but at the fierce blonde in front of her. Her hands gripped the edges of her chair so tightly her knuckles were turning white under strain. She was trying to come up with a way to excuse herself from the room without being totally rude, but before she knew it, Landon's rich voice cut in and the tall jock made a move toward Santana. _Oh shit_, was the only coherent thing running through Santana's mind in that moment.

_Bless your soul, you've got your head in the clouds,  
>She made a fool out of you,<br>And, boy, she's bringing you down_

Landon pointed towards Brittany as she sang, but her focus was exclusively on Santana.  
><em><br>She made your heart melt,  
>But you're cold to the core,<br>Now rumour has it she ain't got your love anymore_

Santana slouched low in her seat. This was going to be a long fucking day.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"Santana!" The small brunette turned at her name and was surprised to see Quinn jogging up to her. She stopped her stride and quirked an eyebrow at the blonde, inviting her to continue. "Can we talk for a sec?"

Santana shrugged, turning and continuing to walk down the hall once Quinn had caught up to her.

"What's going on with you and Landon?" the slender blonde said bluntly.

Santana tensed and stopped. She crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at Quinn. "What do you mean?" she asked carefully.

"Oh just cut the crap." Quinn's tone and uncharacteristically foul mouth stunned Santana for a second. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. The whole club saw them practically pissing all over you during their duet. What kind of game are you playing here?"

Santana was in no mood to get into her increasingly complex relationships with Brittany and Landon, especially with goody-two-shoes Quinn. The fact that the two girls had basically aired their dirty laundry in front of the entire glee club was still working the brunette's nerves and she didn't need to be reminded of the awkward scene.

"Look Fabray, I don't know what you think you saw, but it's none of your fucking business. Butt out and keep your mouth shut," Santana warned.

Undeterred, Quinn continued, "I can't believe you. How can you do this to Brittany?"

"I'm not doing anything to Brittany!" Santana said defensively. "We're friends-"

"Oh bullshit! You've never just been friends. You know you're hurting her by screwing around with Landon. Stop it now before you break her heart."

Santana was livid. Who did Quinn think she was talking to? The brunette's blood was racing but she couldn't tell how much of it was anger at Quinn and how much was guilt over the truth of her accusations. Santana stuck a perfectly manicured finger into the other girl's chest and shoved. "You don't know the first thing about me and Brittany. So get your manufactured nose out of my fucking business!"

Quinn grabbed Santana's wrist and pushed it down. "I don't care if you fuck up your own life, Lopez. But for some fucked up reason Brittany's in love with your sorry ass. So stop being a selfish bitch and end it with Landon," she snarled.

"You don't get to dictate what I do, Fabray. If I want to fuck the entire fucking Cheerio squad I'll do it." Santana didn't bother denying her sexual interests at this point. It was obviously too late to keep the façade up when Quinn was basically calling her out (so to speak) for her relationships with both women. And truthfully, Santana was tired of hiding, deflecting, denying who she was. In the heat of the moment, with Quinn barking in her face and adrenalin pumping through her veins, the fiery brunette let anger overcome her fear and laid into the regal blonde. "It's my fucking life! Back off before I do something we'll both regret," she said through gritted teeth.

Quinn set her jaw and stood firm. "I can't believe that after all Brittany's been through, putting up with all of your bullshit for _years_ that you're actually throwing another _girl_ in her face. This isn't like fucking some random guy, Santana. She's gonna take it personally." The blonde shook her head. "You're such a fucking coward."

Santana grabbed the girl by the shoulders and forced her back into the wall behind her. "Shut," she exhaled violently, "up, Fabray or I swear to God…" the brunette was shaking under the strain of her emotions.

With Santana's face pressed so close to her own, Quinn could see tears pooling in the other girl's eyes, threatening to spill over at any minute. That's when Quinn knew Santana wasn't oblivious at all. The small brunette was barely holding it together, and the blonde knew then that Santana was terrified. Suddenly, all of Quinn's anger and frustration with the brunette dissipated. All she was left with was pity for the broken girl. She raised her hands up in surrender, leaning back onto the wall she was pinned against.

Feeling the small girl relax in her grip, Santana deflated. She released her and turned her head away quickly so Quinn wouldn't see the tears she could no longer contain streaking down her cheeks. She brought her hands to her face and pressed her palms roughly to her eyes, trying to stem the flow discretely. After taking a moment to compose herself, Santana started walking away, not bothering to throw another glance back at the frustrating blonde.

Before she could take more than three steps, however, Santana was stopped short by Quinn's soft voice. "Why her?" she asked quietly.

Santana sighed, her back held rigid to Quinn. Quinn didn't have to mention Landon by name. Santana knew who she was referring to. "She's just easy to be with," the brunette answered, exhausted by the emotional confrontation. Her shoulders slumped and she felt defeated. "There are no expectations. No judgments. It's just not complicated with her."

Quinn eyed the other girl's back. She took in the slumped posture and sullen tone. "That's because she doesn't love you enough," the blonde replied softly. "It's easy because she doesn't expect anything more from you. She doesn't expect you to be better." She hesitated, not sure how much she should push the fragile girl. "Brittany wants more from you because she believes you have more to give. She believes you deserve more." Quinn wanted to reach out to Santana but was unsure how her touch would be received so she balled her hands into fists and held them at her sides. "She believes in you, Santana."

Santana closed her eyes tightly, hating the tears, the weakness, falling freely down her bronze cheeks. "And if I fuck it up?" She laughed derisively, running her hands through her hair, and clenching her hands in the dark locks. "You know me Q. You _know_ I'm gonna fuck up. And when I do, I'm gonna lose her. And then I lose my best friend. My _best fucking friend_, Quinn." She finally turned to face the small blonde and Quinn's heart broke at the sight of her. "Tell me what I do then," she begged. Her eyes were so hollow, so broken Quinn felt tears prick the back of her eyes at the sight.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So the two songs featured are Katy Perry's "Hot N Cold" and Adele's "Rumour Has It". I know all the lyrics for "Rumour Has It" don't really fit with their situation, but I couldn't resist. Call it creative license. :) I really had fun writing this chapter and I hope you enjoyed it. I know it's taking a long time to get to Brittana, but I thank you for sticking with it. And thank you for the reviews and alerts. If you have the chance, please take a moment to review. Good or bad, I appreciate the feedback.**


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N: Long chapter ahead. It's also somewhat Landon-heavy to start so be forewarned!**

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything.

Chapter Fourteen

Santana tried unsuccessfully to stifle a wide yawn. She sat low in her seat in the choir room, half-listening to Tina sing some new-agey, hipster tune that only worked to lull her further into a glazed, almost hypnotic state. Even though her late nights with Brittany had tapered off, the girls' duet and her emotional scene with Quinn kept her from a restful sleep. Her mind just wouldn't stop and every time she closed her eyes images of Brittany and Landon crowded her thoughts.

After the girls duked it out during their duet, Santana had taken a couple days to collect herself, steering clear of both women for the time being. It was too much for the fragile brunette and she needed space to clear her head. She didn't really know what she was doing. She had yet to label any of her relationships, using "friends" as some kind of catchall instead. But even that coping mechanism was beginning to break down.

Santana hadn't been able to utter or even think the word "dating" in relation to Landon. The word seemed so final, so deliberate. If she didn't label things, she could fool herself into thinking she wasn't doing anything at all really. She and Landon went out. They made out. And Santana was only keeping it together because of the forced ambiguousness of her relationship with the jock. It was how she could convince herself that the three of them could eventually become friends.

And with Brittany. Her relationship with the blonde was indefinable. Truthfully, it had always been that way. As much as she tried to deny it, Quinn was right. She and Brittany had ceased being _just friends_ the moment they shared their first kiss behind an old oak tree when they were twelve. And if Santana was really honest, she'd admit that for her, it had happened way before then too.

The two girls had so much history, shared so many firsts that Santana was no longer sure which memories were hers and which were the blonde's. And it hadn't really mattered in the past. They were Santana-and-Brittany/Brittany-and-Santana. A single entity. And until Santana pushed Brittany away the day the dancer asked to sing a duet with her, it appeared it would always be that way.

But Santana _did_ push. And Brittany pushed back, and for Santana, everything fell apart after that. Things got messy real quick, and all those things Santana believed with the utmost certainty to her very core began to be questioned.

The sound of applause pulled the dark-haired girl out of her haze and she blinked rapidly to clear her head.

Schue clapped appreciatively and escorted Tina from the floor. "Beautiful job, Tina. I'm not sure it has quite the epic feel we're looking for Invitationals, but really nice effort! Okay," he spread his arms wide and smiled excitedly. "Now I've got a great surprise with you." He ran into the hall and came back in wheeling two large wardrobe racks. Black slacks with light blue dress shirts were hanging from one while the other held short yellow dresses protected by clear plastic bags. "Your official Invitational outfits have arrived!" A chorus of woops filled the room. "Come get it!" Schue laughed and waved them forward.

The excitement of the impending competition energized Santana and she moved with the rest of the club to claim her dress. By the time she got there, Brittany had grabbed both of their outfits and handed one eagerly to Santana, holding her own up to her body. "We're gonna look so hot, San!" she said with a wide, knowing smile.

"Totally," Santana grinned back. Although the two girls hadn't really spoken recently, it was easy to fall back into familiar patterns when the beautiful blonde smiled so adoringly at her.

No matter what was going on between the best friends, Brittany had the uncanny ability to draw Santana out and in, and make the brunette feel optimistic and carefree. They spun around like kids, holding hands and giggling. Santana felt unburdened for the first time in what felt like ages. She breathed in deeply and exhaled all of her weariness and tension. She couldn't lose this. She _wouldn't_ lose this.

Landon watched the club retrieve their items and chat animatedly about the upcoming competition. She remained lounging in her seat in the front row, long legs stretched and crossed at the ankles. She flicked a pen against the desk top, making a nervous tapping sound that wasn't really noticeable over the chattering din.

"Landon," Mr Schue called to her. "Go grab your dress." He gestured towards the girls' rack.

Landon clenched her jaw hard and looked away. Her tapping became louder, more erratic. She made no move to get out of her seat.

"Landon," Schue said with greater authority. "We already discussed this. Go pick up your outfit for Invitationals." His voice cut through the noise in the room and everyone fell silent suddenly, turning to look at the unmoving jock and uncharacteristically stern choir director. They could sense the tension and most of them shuffled uncomfortably.

Landon's chest felt tight, making it hard for her to breathe. Her nostrils flared as she stared at the dress mocking her from across the room.

"Come on, Riff," Finn teased, "go get your dress. I personally can't _wait_ to see you in it. It'll be nice to see you as a girl for once." He chuckled.

"Fuck you, Finn!" Landon burst out of her seat, standing tall and pointing a finger at him. "You may need to touch your dick every five seconds to remind you who you are, but I don't."

Finn made a move toward the tall jock, but Puck grabbed his shoulder, stopping him from moving forward.

"You wanna go? Let's fucking go," Landon spread her arms wide and took a step toward the quarterback.

"Enough!" Schue cut in, standing in front of Landon to prevent her from going any further. "Back off, both of you," he turned his head from Landon to Finn, trying to make eye contact but they only had glares for each other.

"This is bullshit," Landon said finally, swiping her books off her desk and stalking out, not touching the lone dress hanging from the rack.

Santana was shocked by the exchange. She didn't realize how upset the tall girl was over the whole thing. She squeezed Brittany's hand which had tensed inside hers when the confrontation started. She gave the blonde a soft smile before grabbing Landon's dress and rushing out after the girl.

"Landon," she called out to the swiftly moving jock. "Landon! Slow the fuck down!"

"What!" Landon turned and stepped up to Santana. Her breathing was ragged and she looked like she wanted to hit something. Hard.

"Hey, don't take it out on me. I trying to fucking help you here!" Santana didn't hesitate to get in the other girl's face. She was pissed at having to bear the girl's anger and she wasn't someone who backed down easily.

Landon dug her fingers into her own hips and exhaled roughly. Santana stood close, challenge written in her face. It turned the jock on like nothing else, but this wasn't the time or the place for tackling the brunette and ravishing her senseless. So she ducked her head and took a couple of deep breaths. "I'm sorry," she exhaled and looked up to meet Santana's gaze. "I'm sorry," she said again with greater calm.

Santana nodded and relaxed her features. "Look, come over tonight and we'll try these on and just see how they look, okay?"

"I'm not wearing that, Santana," Landon replied vehemently.

"Just try it on with me. What's it gonna hurt?" Santana looked up and her soft brown eyes relaxed the jock who finally released the tight grip she had on her hips and dropped her arms.

Landon sighed. "Fine," she said reluctantly.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"Come on Shariff! We don't have all day here," Santana called out. She sat on the edge of her bed, anxiously awaiting Landon's appearance from the other side of a partition she set up so the tall girl could have some privacy.

"This is ridiculous. There's no way I'm letting people see me in this," Landon's voice drifted up from behind the divider.

"Just put the damn thing on. Do you need me to come help?"

"No!" Landon poked her head around the side. "Do _not_ move from there," she insisted.

Santana smirked. It was actually kind of cute how nervous Landon was acting. "Well get to it then."

"What's with all the freaking bows? Who wears these things?"

"I know," Santana laughed. "I think Mr Schue's getting fashion advice from Ms Pillsbury. Everything he chooses makes us look like a bunch of Quakers trying to hide baby bumps." She tapped her foot impatiently against the rug. "Come on!" She threw herself back on the bed. "If you don't get your ass out in one minute I'm coming back there and dragging you out!"

"Okay, okay. Sheesh, Lopez, you'd think you were trying to get me _out_ of this damn thing you're so frickin' anxious." Landon took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the partition. She stood tall, arms crossed over her chest and her head cocked to the side, a thoroughly bored look on her face.

A slow smile spread across Santana's face as she took in the jock. She started at the beat-up cross trainers on the girl's feet, moved up long, muscular legs to the edge of a poofy yellow skirt, over a ridiculously large bow at her waist, and up a form-fitting bodice that was obscured by the athlete's twitching arms. Her gaze paused briefly at incredibly broad shoulders before finally stopping at the girl's brooding stare.

Landon looked…well she looked like a jock in a dress and her obvious discomfort only made the scene that much funnier.

"You laugh, Lopez and I swear I'm setting this fucking thing on fire," Landon warned, seeing the amusement in the other girl's eyes.

The jock attempting to look intimidating in that frilly, sunshine-sweet concoction sent Santana over the edge. Her laughter started out as short splutters, the small brunette trying to rein it in, but she just couldn't help it. Soon she was guffawing loudly, rolling back and forth on the bed.

"That's it!" Landon called, throwing up her arms and turning to hide behind the divider.

Santana got up quickly and grabbed her wrist, stopping her progress. "Wait, wait," she said through her laughter, still trying to catch her breath. "It's not that bad," she tried.

Landon simply raised her eyebrow and re-crossed her arms.

"No, seriously. It's kinda cute. It just needs a little tweaking." Santana dragged her away from partition so she could sit on the bed with the jock standing in front of her. "Okay," she looked the girl up and down again. "Try letting your hair down," she suggested.

Landon sighed but pulled the rubber band out of her hair and shook the dark locks out. They settled haphazardly around her shoulders.

Santana's breath caught. Her eyes never made it to the dress; they were stuck on Landon's face, dark hair framing tan skin and light, green-tinted eyes. "That looks... That's better," she stuttered.

Landon rolled her eyes and Santana finally took in the whole look. Honestly, she still looked like a jock in a dress. While her form was decidedly female with soft curves and striking, lean lines, the way she stood, square shoulders and straight back, and her overall stance and carriage just read masculine. And the poofy, girly dress emphasized the posture and attitude in all the wrong ways.

Santana observed the girl thoughtfully. "Try relaxing your shoulders and, I don't know, slouching some," she suggested.

Landon blinked at her. "You're kidding, right?"

"It's just your shoulders are so broad and stiff. They make you look too wide for the dress."

"They're _shoulders_, Lopez. I can't make 'em any less wide."

"Just…turn them in a little. Don't stand so tall."

"I'm fucking tall! I'm not suddenly gonna be slim shouldered and short no matter what we do."

"Come on, just try it. Just," she modeled what she wanted Landon to do, curving her shoulders in slightly.

Landon sighed but complied to the smaller girl's request, trying to soften her body posture. She ended up bowing her back and bringing her shoulders in, making her look like she was hunchbacked. The move threw Santana into another laughing fit and she found herself gasping for breath.

"Forget it," Landon sighed dejectedly and fell back onto the bed next to Santana. "This sucks."

Santana sat up and tried to calm her chuckles, knowing the other girl was genuinely upset over the situation. She pulled Landon sideways on the bed so that the jock's head was resting in her lap, and ran her fingers through the thick, loose hair splayed across her legs. "We'll figure something out."

"It's just so frustrating," Landon huffed. "Glee's supposed to be about acceptance, right? About not being afraid of who you are. I fight everyday to walk those halls like I matter, like I believe that who I am is okay. I lost my fucking family because I was tired of pretending to be someone I wasn't." The tall girl's eyes shimmered as she looked up into Santana's soft, sympathetic gaze.

"Glee was the last place I thought I'd have to fight so hard just to belong." She turned her face into Santana's stomach, not wanting the other girl to see how much she hurt. She reached an arm around the brunette's back and hugged her close, her other arm snaking around Santana's thighs, pulling her in.

Santana rubbed the jock's back and brushed dark strands away from her face. "I'll talk to Schue," she whispered softly.

Landon pulled back and looked up. Santana smiled gently at her, running her fingertips across the tall girl's forehead, continuing to tuck the dark locks behind her ear. "I'll take care of it," Santana assured her.

The jock stared up at Santana's sure smile. Landon hadn't relied on anyone since she was fourteen. She wasn't cold or guarded; she just didn't have expectations that other people were going to stand up for her. That's why she stood so tall, so straight and broad. It was why she swaggered and held her chin up when she walked. She claimed space with her body in order to assert herself, to ensure that no one could ignore her or brush her aside without care.

But here was Santana, this tiny slip of a girl telling her she would take care of things, take care of her, and Landon sank into the safety she offered. She reached a long arm up the small girl's side, wrapping a strong hand behind the girl's neck and pulling her down as she lifted her head up. She captured Santana's lips with her own, kissing her softly, intently. Landon poured herself into the kiss, using her lips and teeth and tongue to draw Santana in, thanking her, worshipping her the only way she knew how.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Non-sexual threesome outing part deux was left up to Landon, and Santana quickly regretted her magnanimous gesture once they arrived at their destination.

It had already been a long, tense drive to start. They had taken Santana's Range Rover since the three of them couldn't fit in Landon's pick-up. Santana drove with Brittany by her side and Landon giving the small brunette instructions from the backseat.

They barely made the 90 minute drive in one piece, and Santana had threatened to pull the car over and kick each of them out no fewer than three times. The two girls bickered the whole way, arguing over song choices, when to stop for refreshments and bathroom breaks, when to fill up gas. They almost came to blows in the AM/PM over which type of Cheetos was best, original puff or extra crunchy. (Brittany rolled her eyes. Original puff, duh.) It was like corralling two ill-tempered five year olds and Santana's nerves were completely frayed by the time they pulled into a small parking lot and everyone hopped out.

She was wholly unprepared, however, for the scene before her. When Landon told her to make sure to wear swim clothes and then loaded a large cooler into her trunk, she assumed they were headed out to the beach and she mentally applauded Landon's choice since one could never be too tan. Looking out at the contraption before her, however, she began to doubt the jock's senses.

"You can't be serious," Santana said, hip cocked to the side, arms crossed over her chest. "Fishing? You're taking us fishing?" Santana and Brittany stood at the edge of the dock eyeing the mid-size fishing boat suspiciously. The two ex-Cheerios were both wearing super short, designer (which meant expensive) board shorts and colorful tank tops, neither expecting to have to actually _do_ anything other than lounge about.

Landon smiled widely, lifting the enormous cooler up and into the boat, placing it next to a cluster of fishing poles and a tackle box already set up to one side. "Yea! It's gonna be awesome!"

"There's no way Britt and I are touching anything even resembling a worm."

"Heh," Landon chuckled. "I think I knew that about you," she winked cheekily.

Santana rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean," she huffed.

"Relax. We're using artificial lures, okay. No live bait, I promise. Come on, I had to pull a lot of strings to get us the boat and gear. Just give it a go. If you don't like the fishing part we can always just take a swim and kick back in the boat."

Santana glanced sideways to Brittany who looked equally unsure of the day's activity as she nibbled the corner of her thumbnail. After contemplating another 90-minute drive back to civilization, Santana finally sighed dramatically and grabbed the blonde's hand, pulling them closer to the motorized craft. They stepped in carefully and the brunette was surprised and a little impressed by how much room there actually was in the vessel. There were seats enough for four and a padded bench around the rear that would make for good tanning space. She supposed they could indulge the jock this once.

"You do know how to work this thing, right?" Santana asked skeptically.

"Of course." Once everyone was settled, Landon pushed off from the dock and started steering the boat away from shore. "Alright, Ladies. Hold on," she smiled mischievously before kicking it into gear and sprinting from the dock is a rush of noise and waves.

Santana had to admit that the rush of wind and mist in her face was exhilarating and she found herself laughing away with Brittany, their hands still clasped tightly between them.

Landon cut the engine once they made it a good distance from shore and set each girl up with a pole and lure. "Just chuck it in. The lure should do most of the work," she instructed. The tall jock then retrieved an ice-cold Coke from the cooler and sat back on the bench, stretching herself out and bringing one arm behind her head to relax against. "Now this is the life." She took a sip of her drink and smiled at the two girls standing awkwardly at the end of the boat, poles in hand, hesitant expressions on their faces.

"So what do we do now exactly?" Santana asked.

"Wait."

"Wait?"

"Yep, that's fishing for you," Landon smiled. She pulled on a baseball cap and tipped it low so the brim just covered the edge of her eyes.

Santana looked back over her shoulder to see Landon sprawled out without a care in the world. The jock wore a white, ribbed tank top and long board shorts that stopped just above her knees. Santana watched the slow, easy breaths of the tall girl through the fabric of her tank.

"Um, hello?" she called back irritably. Landon peeked an eye out from the brim of her cap. "Why are _we_," she gestured between Brittany and herself, "doing _this_ and you're just lying there?"

Landon shrugged. "I've been fishing tons. I figured I'd let you city girls get a taste of the wild outdoors for once," she smirked.

Santana picked up a towel resting nearby and flung it at the reclining girl. "Get your ass up here, Shariff."

With three poles dangling off the edge of the boat, the girls settled in for a long day's fishing.

"So how'd you get this boat, anyway? It's pretty swank," Santana asked.

"It belongs to a friend of mine from way back. Her family's actually really tight with mine, and even after they kicked me out we kept in touch. Honestly, I think she has a bit of a crush on me, but she's too proper to admit it." She smirked.

"You think everyone has a crush on you," Santana replied, making Brittany scoff and grin.

"True," Landon smiled back, "but I think this one's legit. I mean, she used to come to all of my football games and the girl couldn't even tell the difference between offense and defense half the time."

"So do you like her?" Brittany asked a little hopefully.

"Nah, not my type. She's sweet and all, but too, I don't know. Too compliant."

"I thought those were good things." Brittany looked to Santana for help.

"Not compliments, B. Compliant means you do whatever someone else wants. You don't have your own opinions and you don't stand up for yourself if you do."

Landon smiled softly at the exchange. "Yea. I don't want to be with someone who's not their own person, you know? Who can't give as good as they get." She winked at Santana.

The small brunette smiled shyly. "So how did you get into football," she changed the subject. "No offense, but your dad doesn't seem like the type to be down with a girl playing ball."

Landon laughed. "Actually, he's the whole reason I'm in football." She switched her pole to one hand and leaned back on the bench. "He was gone a lot when I was a kid, but he loved, _loved_ American football. So whenever he was home, he was watching some game or another. I figured if I wanted to spend any time with him, I'd have to love it too."

The jock sighed and continued, "so, when I was five or so, I started watching games with him and ended up falling in love with the sport. When I was old enough, I begged him to let me join a peewee league. He agreed as long as I took dance at the same time." Landon shrugged. "It all worked out in the end cuz I'm a fucking badass football player and kickass dancer." She smiled widely.

"What kind of dance did you do?" Brittany asked, curious.

The jock laughed. "They put me in ballet for like two days. I pitched a fit over the pink leotard and punched some kid in the nose for making fun of me and they switched me to hip hop." Landon looked up at Brittany. "I hear you're a pretty good dancer. You sure tear it up in glee, so you got skills and training. How'd you get into the stuff?"

Brittany blushed and shrugged. "Sorta the same thing. Not the football stuff, but I started when I was real little cuz my mom got tired of me breaking stuff in the house. She said I had too much energy and needed to shake it out. Dancing's as good as shaking, I guess," she shrugged again.

"So what kind of dancing do you do?" Landon asked.

"A little bit of everything. But hip hop's my favorite," the blonde replied a little bashfully.

"Dope," the jock nodded over to her.

Santana grinned at the two girls. She would never admit it, but she was actually enjoying herself. She liked the quiet of the lake and the opportunity it gave all of them to actually talk. It was nice to see the two girls finally finding some common ground and having a civil conversation.

"So," Landon continued. "What's your story?" she gestured at the two girls. "How'd you all meet?"

The blonde and brunette shared shy smiles and bumped shoulders. Santana, as with most things, took the lead. "Britts and I met in grade school. She was all elbows and blonde pigtails," she chuckled at the memory. "And I figured she needed me to look out for her since she was way too cute to be left on her own."

"I fell on her from the monkey bars," Brittany interjected with a wide grin. "She was _so_ mad but she couldn't bring herself to yell at me. That's the first time she protected me from getting hurt. You're such a good cushion," the blonde wrapped her arms around the brunette and hugged her tightly, fishing pole dangling from one hand.

Santana blushed. "Yea well," she tried to brush it off, "I'm just thankful your balance has improved since then. I don't think my body could take that much abuse again." She playfully bopped Brittany with her hip.

Landon smiled wistfully at the pair. "Grade school, huh? That's a lot of history."

"Damn right," Brittany replied quickly, with certainty. "We're a pair. We fit." And they did. Light and dark. Carefree and guarded. Inner fortitude and outward strength. They were beautiful together.

Landon cleared her throat but before she could figure out what to say, she was distracted by Brittany's squeal as the blonde jerked toward the edge of the boat, clutching her fishing pole in both hands. "I think I got something!" she called excitedly.

Santana wrapped her arms around the blonde to keep her centered. Her heart was hammering in her chest from the sudden cry and movement and she pulled Brittany back so she wasn't hanging so close to the edge. "Drop the pole, Britt!"

"No way! Just hold on and pull the sucker in!" Landon was next to them in a flash, reaching around the pair to grab the pole. The three girls wrestled with the fish for a minute—well, actually, Brittany and Landon wrestled with the fish while Santana just screamed and clutched at the blonde tightly. After a couple frantic moments, Brittany finally pulled the long line up and in. A large, speckled, silver and black fish wriggled in the air. Santana continued her screaming as she finally backed away from the blonde, hopping behind a seat and clutching the backrest.

"Get that thing away from me!" Santana yelled at the girls.

At this point, Brittany wasn't fairing much better than Santana. She held the line as far away from her as possible, hopping from one foot to the other and shrieking, "I don't want to touch it. I don't want to touch it. Don't make me touch it!"

Landon was finally able to grab the line from the blonde and hooked her fingers under the fish's gills to hold it firm. She reached gingerly into its mouth and removed the hook and lure before grabbing its tail and holding it lengthwise so the girls could proudly examine the catch. "Nice job, Brittany. It's definitely a keeper!" she exclaimed.

The dancer pouted slightly and reached out a finger to pet the slippery skin. "Aw, I don't think my mom will let me keep him though. Last time I brought a bird home and she wouldn't let me keep it in the house. Then it turned into a whole big thing with Ms Pillsbury. It was kinda a mess." She scratched the fish under its chin. "I'm sorry little guy."

"No, I didn't mean keep him keep him. I meant it's big enough to keep and eat later. I got a hibachi at home and we can have a cookout." Landon moved toward a separate fish cooler to chuck their catch in.

Brittany reached out quickly to grab her wrist. Her eyes were wide in shock. "We're not _eating_ him! San!" She looked imploringly at the small brunette.

"What do you mean? That's the whole point of fishing," Landon replied, incredulously. "We fish, we catch, we eat."

Santana shifted between Brittany's horrified expression to Landon's perplexed look and sighed. "It's Brittany's fish, Landon. She gets to decide what she wants to do with it."

Brittany nodded rapidly, eyes still wide with anxiety. Landon slumped her shoulders in defeat and moved to the edge of the boat to set the wriggling fish gently into the water. Brittany leaned over and watched him quickly swim away.

"Well," Landon wiped her hands on her shorts. "That was fun," she said sarcastically.

Deciding that fishing was probably off the table now that she had traumatized Brittany with her "crazy" suggestion that they eat the stupid fish, Landon proposed a quick swim before lunching on the sandwiches and snacks they brought.

"There's nothing in there that's gonna bite me, right?" Santana asked, eyeing the water skeptically.

"Nothing in there's gonna get ya," Landon chuckled. "Of course, _I_ make no such promises," she whispered in Santana's ear before pinching her butt quickly. The fiery girl slapped her hand away and scowled at her playfully. A flutter of movement caught their attention and they turned to see Brittany pull her tank top over her head, revealing a bright yellow bikini top.

"Oh wow," Landon breathed as she watched the blonde shimmy out of her shorts, sliding them down impossibly long legs before kicking them off to the side. The jock stared unabashedly at the newly exposed skin, her mouth hanging open.

"I know, right?" Santana smirked knowingly, almost proudly, at the jock's reaction to Brittany's body.

Landon whipped her head around and blushed. She closed her mouth with a snap and swallowed hard. "Yea, impressive," she said quickly.

"You guys coming in or not?" Brittany called. She had her foot on the rail of the boat, readying herself to jump over into the water.

The two girls quickly shed their own clothes. Santana pulled off her tank and shorts to reveal a skimpy, pale pink bikini. Landon wore a black bikini top but kept her long shorts on before diving in after the pair.

"What's that on your back?" Brittany asked when the jock emerged from her dive. She pointed to the dark lettering on the girl's shoulder.

"It's just a reminder to keep a level head. I was kinda wild as a kid. Lots of fighting, getting into trouble, you know the drill. I got this," she patted her shoulder, "as a wish for a more peaceful life, to be more settled in myself. It reminds me of all I've been through and gives me hope for better things to come."

Brittany nodded at Landon's explanation, "that's cool."

The three girls splashed and raced and playfully dunked each other for the better part of an hour. There was still some tension between Brittany and Landon—each girl wanting to best the other in all things, whether it was to see who could make the biggest splash, who could dive the farthest, or who could hold their breath the longest. Santana took it all in stride, rolling her eyes at the girls' antics. When they decided to test their lungs and submerged themselves underwater, she hopped back into the boat and pulled open a bag of chips. When they finally emerged she made a show of pretending she hadn't witnessed the competition and therefore wouldn't assess a winner. She was no dummy.

Overall, though, when they glided back up to the dock and started to unload, Santana couldn't help but be hopeful. They had made a lot of progress today, and she felt much lighter about her relationships with the two women. Quinn could suck it. She was managing. _They_ were managing. And she didn't have to define anything or give anything up. It wasn't easy, but nothing ever was for Santana. So she'd fight and scratch and bleed to make it okay for them. For all of them.

When they finally got back to Santana's house where Landon had left her pickup, the three girls were completely exhausted. The jock helped the two girls unload their stuff before hopping in her truck and rolling down her window. Santana leaned against the door. "You sure you don't want to stay over with Britt and me? The parentals are out for the night."

Landon chuckled before taking a peek at the tall blonde standing at Santana's front door, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently on the stoop. "I think I've had as much female bonding as I can take in a day. You two have fun braiding each other's hair and reading bridal magazines and shit," she smirked and Santana punched her in the arm.

They looked at each other intently for a moment. Santana wanted to lean in and kiss Landon goodbye, but she knew she couldn't do that to Brittany.

The tall girl seemed to sense her predicament and simply reached out to give Santana's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I'll call you later," she said quietly to Santana.

Landon pulled away with a quick wave at the two girls. It had been a long fucking day and her too-short twin bed was calling sweetly to her.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

After a couple of long, super hot showers and some dinner, the two girls found themselves cuddled up on Santana's bed, watching a marathon of _America's Next Top Model_. They had changed into loose t-shirts and cotton shorts, and were huddled with Santana leaning back against the headboard and Brittany in her arms. The dancer nestled into her side, her head resting gently on Santana's chest, the brunette's arm wrapped snugly around her shoulders and their legs tangled together.

"Ugh, what's she even doing on this show? She's never gonna win. She's way too short," Santana grumbled from behind the leggy blonde.

"I think she's pretty," Brittany mumbled against Santana's collarbone.

"It's not enough to be pretty, B. You gotta be like super tall and lean to be a model. Like you."

Brittany grinned up at the girl. "I think you could totally be a model, San. I'd cut out photos of you and hang them all over my wall." She smiled at the thought.

Santana chuckled. "Like you don't do that already," she teased.

Brittany turned her head into Santana's body, trying to bury her flushed cheeks and wide grin into the smaller girl's neck. She felt Santana hum contently and hug her close. The dark-haired girl felt _so_ good underneath her, so soft and warm. Brittany slipped her hand under the other girl's t-shirt and rubbed her belly. The television faded into the background and all Brittany could feel was Santana, all she could breathe was the sweet, rich scent of her. The dancer closed her eyes and ran her hand up Santana's side, squeezing gently as it moved up the other girl's body, fingertips ghosting the edge of Santana's bra. She felt Santana's breath hitch.

"B-Britt…uh," the brunette stuttered.

Brittany pulled herself up and over the suddenly stiff body beneath her, trailing her nose from the girl's collar to her neck, nipping lightly when she reached the pulse point that raced under her lips. She tried to soothe the rapid beating by running her tongue tenderly against it.

"What are you," Santana had to take a breath. Her whole body tensed with equal parts confusion and desire. She didn't trust her hands and kept them clenched at her sides, manicured nails biting into the soft flesh of her palms. "What are you doing, Britt?"

The blonde placed a hand on either side of the brunette's head, lifting herself to look into glittering eyes beneath her. Santana gasped. Brittany's eyes were electric blue and her nostrils flared with each breath. The blonde flashed on Santana's pouty mouth and she bit her bottom lip. She kicked Santana's leg with her knee, pushing it to the side so that she could settle between the smaller girl's legs.

Before the brunette knew what was happening, Brittany descended, capturing Santana's lips roughly with her own. Long, nimble fingers sank into dark, silky locks, gripping tightly. Santana couldn't prevent a breathy moan from escaping, and Brittany took the opportunity to slip her soft but deliberate tongue in. They kissed fervently, desperately, clutching and biting and bruising each other tenderly.

And Santana was lost. She was lost in the feel of familiar tastes and smells and moans and breaths and caresses and sharp nails on tender skin. She was lost in the wet heat that was Brittany, and it was no less hot, no less gratifying or stimulating for its familiarity.

It was only when she felt Brittany's firm hand cover her breast and squeeze intently that she was jolted out of her pleasure-induced haze. She grabbed Brittany's sneaky hand and pushed her back gently. Santana knew she couldn't be trusted near Brittany's body and she needed to create space between them quickly. She jumped to her feet and moved to lean against her desk across the room.

"San, what's wrong?" Brittany asked breathily.

Santana rubbed her eyes with her fingertips before looking over at the blonde. Brittany was flushed, pale cheeks glowing crimson with want. Her breathing was heavy, coming in quick, deep bursts. Santana wanted to pounce on her, tear her clothes off and devour her. But this wasn't right, and she wanted to do things right with Brittany, _for_ Brittany.

And in the back of her mind there was also a 6-foot tall, broad-shouldered jock, with glimmering gold eyes and a trusting grin.

"What's wrong," Brittany repeated after Santana didn't respond. Her lust-glazed eyes and confused expression almost broke Santana's will and heart.

"I don't know. I don't know, B," she finally got out, desperate and panicked. "What are we doing?"

Brittany stood from the bed and approached the twitching girl cautiously. "What we always do."

"I thought you didn't want to do…_that_ anymore?" Santana asked, crossing her arms protectively over her chest and lowering her head. She couldn't look at the blonde and see the disappointment (it was always disappointment) in her eyes.

Brittany reached out to Santana and wrapped her arms around the smaller girl's waist, pressing their bodies together. She squeezed the girl tight and leaned down to take her lips once again. "I changed my mind," she whispered against pliant lips. "I miss you, San. I miss us."

Santana let herself sink into Brittany's kiss. This had been everything she ever wanted. This amazing, beautiful, sweet, charming girl pulling her close and kissing her like the world was ending. But things had changed. _They_ had changed and Santana couldn't do this again. It took all of her considerable will to push the blonde gently away. "We can't, Britt. I can't." She closed her eyes tightly, feeling the increasingly familiar tickle of tears behind her eyes.

"Why?" Brittany asked, refusing to give up Santana's lips just yet. She held her ground, invading Santana's space and leaning in so their foreheads touched. "It'll be like it always was."

"That wasn't enough for you before. It shouldn't be enough now."

"Then make it different, San."

Santana reached up and clutched the back of Brittany's neck with both hands, threading her fingers together to hold the other girl steady. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling salty tears leak past tight eyelids. "I can't," she whispered, her voice thick and sticky.

"That's okay," the dancer reassured, moving her hands around the small girl's back, rubbing soft circles into tense flesh. "We don't have to rush. We can go back to what we were before. I just want to be close to you again."

Santana removed her hands from Brittany's neck and held onto the blonde's arms around her waist. "Britt," she started slowly, "I love you so, _so_ much." Their foreheads were still pressed together but even from the awkward position, Santana could _feel_ Brittany's grin. "But I can't…be with you like that now."

Brittany pulled back in surprise. Santana never refused her advances. Like never-ever. Feelings and romance were one thing. The fiery brunette seemed to avoid them like they were Rachel Berry. But sex, Santana never refused sex, at least from Brittany she didn't.

"Why? I thought…I thought this was what you wanted," she said, uncertainty creeping into her soft voice.

Santana moved away from Brittany, hugging her own chest and rubbing her arms. "This isn't what you want or deserve, and it isn't what I want for you."

Brittany smiled and moved to take the brunette in her arms once again. "That's okay-"

"It's not okay, Britt!" She pulled away forcefully, turning her back on the confused blonde. "I…," tears were in freefall now, "Landon and I…" her throat closed up and she tried to swallow down all the pain in her chest.

Brittany paled at Landon's name. "What does she have to do with anything? With us?"

"Britt," Santana finally turned to face the blonde. "Landon and I…we're sort of…together." She paused took a breath. "We're dating, sweetheart."

It was barely audible, but Brittany heard her clearly and she folded into herself at the admission. She sank to the floor and wrapped long arms around her knees, burying her face in her lap. This was it. She lost. She waited too long and she lost.

"B? Brittany," Santana knelt beside the huddled girl. "I'm sorry. I'm _so_ sorry. I don't know what I'm doing. I never meant to hurt you," she said in a rush.

"Then stop hurting me," Brittany looked up, watery blue eyes connecting with shimmering, soft brown.

Santana couldn't take it. She stood and clenched her fists. "Nothing's changed, Britt! I'm still a fuck up who doesn't deserve you and can't give you what you need. If we do this, you're just gonna end up leaving me again." She walked towards the bed and sat down. When she spoke, her voice was firm, resigned. "I wasn't good enough to hold on to you then and I'm not now."

Brittany moved from her spot on the floor to kneel in front of Santana. "You were always enough, baby."

"Oh bullshit, Brittany!" She pulled away from the blonde and walked across the room. "I couldn't even rate against Wheels Fucking McGee! Don't pretend that's not fucking true!"

"God! Why does it always come back to Artie!" Brittany exclaimed, frustrated and angry that Santana was still so stuck on the past. "He's history. I'm never going to be with him again. _I'm_ over him. Why can't you be?" She ran a shaky hand through her hair. "This has nothing to do with him."

Santana grabbed Brittany's arm and pulled her close. "You look me in the eye and you tell me he doesn't matter."

Brittany was undeterred. She cupped Santana's face and held her gaze. "He doesn't matter," she said resolutely. "Santana," she drew out her name out slowly, "this isn't about me and Artie because there is no me and Artie anymore. Just let him go."

But Santana couldn't. She couldn't let the months of watching them together, of pouring her heart out only to have _him_ thrown in her face, go. She ground her back teeth. "You blew me off for some dick in a wheelchair and I'm just supposed to let it go!"

"Fuck you, Santana! I've loved you since we were ten and I understood what it meant to be in love with someone. And even then I was only putting a name to feelings I've felt for like ever." She pushed against Santana's chest until the brunette's legs hit the bed again and she sat down heavily. "I've told you I loved you a million times way before Artie. You never said it back. You always ran away. And the one time, the _one_ _fucking time_ I said I couldn't be with you, you never let it go! It's not fair!"

When Santana spoke again, her voice was low and heartbroken. "Every time I denied it, every time I pushed you away, it was because I was scared, Britt." She took a deep breath. "It was never because I loved someone more. I _never_ loved someone more." Santana knew it wasn't fair. Hurt was hurt, whether it came from fear or from loving someone else. They both hurt each other. But she couldn't see past her own aching heart.

Brittany, defeated, sank to the floor besides Santana's legs. "I didn't love him more," she whispered. "I never loved anyone more, Santana."

The brunette stood. She looked around her own room, taking in the dark-colored walls that only seemed to add to the heaviness in the room. When her gaze landed on Brittany, shoulders slumped, eyes dulled by the emotional exertion of their exchange, Santana felt her chest tighten and she hardened herself against the pain she caused.

"Well maybe you should."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thanks for reading this beast of a chapter! I know there was a lot of stuff and maybe not as much actual movement as some would like, but I'm trying to flesh out the characters so that things make sense when they come up. I know it can read a little boring at times but I think they're important developments. For those wondering how much longer this will go, I'm not entirely sure. I have particular events that I want to include and it just depends how long it takes to get there. If I had to guess, however, I would give it maybe another four or so chapters. Oh, and I am not a fishing expert so don't read too much into the actual fishing aspect of the fishing trip. :) **

**As always, please review if you get the chance. You'll make my day.**


	16. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything. Not the show or the songs, which are "Real Men," Tori Amos version (which I highly recommend!), and "Cold as Stone" by Lady Antebellum.

Chapter Fifteen

Landon was in her street clothes, relaxing in the bleachers after practice. The big Homecoming game was tomorrow and Bieste had been relentless in practice. But Landon loved the ache in her legs and the lingering sting of her palms. It meant accomplishment to her. She loved the physical and mental exertion of football, and the only thing that would have made the full body ache sweeter was if it came after a long, well-fought game rather than just a practice.

She stretched out on the bench beneath her, crossing her arms behind her head. The heat of the sun warmed her from the top of her head to the tips of her bare feet. She wiggled her toes and sighed, closing her eyes against the bright light and humming a slow tune.

Finn was coming out of the tunnel underneath the bleachers when he heard her. He was about to turn around and exit through the back not wanting to start things up with the infuriating jock once again, but Landon's voice caused him to pause. It was low and melodic, settling down on his shoulders and rooting him where he stood.

_And so it goes - go round again  
>But now and then we wonder who the real men are<em>

Finn leaned back against wall, keeping out of view. Landon's voice grew stronger as she sang and he couldn't bring himself to walk away. Longing and melancholy threaded through the words. He closed his eyes at the sound.

_Time to get scared—time to change plan  
>Don't know how to treat a lady<br>Don't know how to be a man  
>Time to admit –what you call defeat<br>'Cause there's women running past you now  
>And you just drag your feet<em>

There was an uncomfortable pressure on his chest and he clenched his fists. This girl was taking everything from him. It was his senior year and she was messing everything up. She got him demoted in glee with Rachel and Santana taking the lead duet. She was making him look bad in football practice by being so damn good all the time. She seemed effortlessly confident where he was constantly questioning himself, constantly second-guessing. He hated the insecurity and inadequacy she exposed in him.

Landon accused him of having everything at his feet, but Finn knew that wasn't the case at all. He was stumbling through his senior year and nothing was certain. Not his relationship with Rachel. Not his ability or even desire to go to college. Not his dreams because truthfully he didn't know what they were at this point. He didn't know what he wanted for himself, only what others thought he should want.

From where he stood, leaning against cold concrete stinking of dirt and sweat, it was Landon who had everything in front of her.

_And so it goes - go round again  
>But now and then we wonder who the real men are<em>

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

The following day, Will Schuester sat behind his cluttered office desk, reviewing YouTube videos of last year's National Championships, dissecting choreography, song choice, and overall vocal abilities when he heard a soft knock on his office door. He was more than a little surprised to see Santana leaning casually against the frame, hands clutched at the straps of her backpack. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but the fiery brunette intimidated him a bit and having her seek him out outside of glee caused his stomach to flutter. He cleared his throat and gestured toward the young woman.

"Hey Santana. Come on in. Um," he shuffled some papers around on his desk, "what brings you by today?"

Santana slumped into one of the chairs across the desk and clasped her hands in her lap. "I wanted to talk to you about Landon," she said bluntly. She was never one to beat around the bush or engage in idle niceties with people she didn't care about. Schuester wasn't one of her favorite people and she didn't feel the need to prolong this conversation anymore than necessary.

Santana's request surprised Will, though. While he could see the two girls becoming close, he hadn't pegged Santana as someone who generally cared about the lives and wellbeing of others. "Yea, I noticed she hasn't shown up to glee recently. What's up?"

Santana sighed. "Look Mr Schue," she leaned forward to rest her arms on the edge of his desk. "The thing is, Landon's really upset about wearing the girls' outfit for Invitationals." She could see Schuester start to speak but pushed on before he could get a word out. "She tried, Mr Schue. She really did. She even came over and tried it on. It just doesn't work for her," the brunette implored.

"Santana," he began slowly, "I appreciate you coming by and sticking up for her, but rules are rules. We don't give out special treatment here. We're a team and we need to work together as a team."

"Landon gets that and she's all about the team," Santana responded quickly. "She's got our best interests in mind. You should have seen her, Mr Schue," Santana leaned back in her chair. "She looked ridiculous and she's only going to be a distraction, especially because she's so uncomfortable in it. We'd be laughed at. _She__'__d_ be laughed at."

"Santana, what's this about, really?" he asked, certain that the brunette had ulterior motives here.

"It's about winning. And we need her at her best to win. She's not going to stick with the club if you make her wear that and we're so much stronger with her than without. No one in glee is going to care if you just let her wear what the guys do. She'd look totally hot and we'd pair up better that way anyway."

Will ran his hands over his face, contemplating what giving in would mean.

Santana rushed on, seeing him begin to question his decision. "Principles are well and good and all, but you gotta be sure you're standing up for the right things. This is about supporting one of our own and letting her be who she is no matter what. Landon wants to be in glee. She wants to be part of the team. She just doesn't want to have to be someone she isn't to do that."

Will looked up and met Santana's firm gaze. He had seen the abrasive girl's fight and passion many times. This time was different, however. This time she seemed to be using them to defend a teammate and he found himself smiling slightly at the change in her. "This really means a lot to her?" he questioned unnecessarily.

"Yes, it does. And she means a lot to this team," Santana replied definitively.

"Okay, Santana, I'll think about it. That's all I can promise you now." He smiled a bit more broadly at her. "Thank you for coming in. It shows you really care about the club and your peers."

She slumped back in her chair. "Yea, whatever," she waved her hand dismissively.

Schuester took in the normally acerbic teen. Something seemed off. The girl's usually impeccable, high fashion appearance was decidedly lacking. She was dressed simply in baggy, faded coveralls and a plain, long-sleeved shirt. She wore virtually no make-up and her hair was piled high on her head in a messy bun. Will frowned, suddenly worried about the young woman. "Is everything okay, Santana? You seem a little down."

Santana sat up straight and clasped her hands together in her lap. "Everything's fine. Just worried about Invitationals," she deflected.

Schuester eyed her carefully. "You know you can always talk to me if anything's bothering you. Sometimes it helps to talk things over with an adult. You know we've all been there," he chuckled.

_Yea,__right_, Santana thought. Surely Mr Schue was once in love with his best friend while secretly dating someone else at the same time. Oh yea, and they all just happened to be of the same sex too. She rolled her eyes at him. "I'm fine," she repeated.

"Okay, well if you need to talk, I'm here. Ms Pillsbury is also a great listener if you need a friendly ear." He stood and moved around his desk to rest a hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to deal with everything by yourself, Santana. We're all here to help if you want it."

It took all of Santana's will not to shrug him off, but she figured she'd have to play nice if she didn't want to ruin Landon's chances with the choir director. "Thanks, Schue, but nothing's wrong."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

It took Santana a good fifteen minutes before she worked up the courage to ring the bell. Still, she wasn't entirely ready when it swung wide open and revealed an immaculate Mrs Pierce. "Santana! Am I glad to see you!" Before Santana could respond, she was pulled into a strong embrace and yanked into the Pierce's home. "Brittany's been in a funk all week and I'm sure you're just the thing to pull her out of it." Mrs Pierce smiled widely at the teen, missing Santana's grimace at her words. "You know the way. And can you tell Brittany that her father and I are headed out? Don't get into too much trouble while we're gone," she winked at Santana before disappearing into the kitchen.

Santana stood stock still for a moment, trying to summon the strength to climb the stairs that would take her to her best friend's room. She hadn't spoken to Brittany for a week. Since fleeing her own room and leaving Brittany all alone in an empty Lopez house. That night, Santana had driven aimlessly for hours before pulling into an empty WMHS parking lot and finally passing out in her car just as dawn broke across the horizon. When she had returned home the next day, Brittany was gone. Not that that surprised the brunette.

Santana didn't know how to bridge the distance she'd created with the dancer. She didn't know what she could say to make things better. She could apologize she supposed, which would be a feat in itself since Santana was unaccustomed with making such concessions. But what would she be apologizing for? Yes, she shouldn't have said those things about Brittany and Artie. She needed to let that go. That wasn't Brittany's baggage; it was hers. She could apologize for never making it to Fondue for Two. She knew she had hurt the blonde with that. Brittany was right when she said that she'd admitted her love and put herself out there far more than Santana ever had. The blonde was constantly reaching out to her until one day she wasn't and it was Santana's own damn fault for that.

There were a million things Santana could apologize for, maybe needed to apologize for. But she just wasn't sure if Landon was one of them.

After a deep breath, Santana started to make her way up the staircase. Her hand gripped the banister tightly, stretching the skin across her knuckles almost painfully. She moved slowly, trying to convince herself with each step that this was a good idea, that everything would be okay once their eyes met, that when she opened the door and finally faced the blonde, understanding and forgiveness would have replaced heartache and pain in deep blue eyes.

Once she reached Brittany's closed bedroom door, however, Santana couldn't move. She leaned her forehead softly against it, closing her eyes and taking deep, calming breaths. She could hear soft tones coming from the other side of the door, and she smiled. _Lady__Antebellum_. Santana hated country music, but she'd indulge the blonde if Brittany batted her big, round eyes at her. While the dancer loved all music, she had a particular soft spot for country because of its rich story-telling and dramatic themes. _You__don__'__t__have__to__guess__with__country__songs_, she'd tell Santana. _You__don__'__t__have__to__fight__to__understand__something__hidden__below__the__surface._ _The__meaning__'__s__all__right__there,__plain__and__beautiful_.

At the time, Santana had simply smiled at her friend's cuteness and let it go. But then there were quiet nights where Santana would wake suddenly and catch the blonde studying her—dark, curious eyes coasting across her face intently—and she'd wonder if maybe Brittany wished she were a country song, simple and straight-forward.

Santana placed her palm against the door, feeling the warmth from the room seeping through the wood. She was closing her fist, readying herself to knock when she heard her. Not Lady Antebellum front woman, Hillary Scott, but Brittany. Santana shut her eyes tightly at the soft words.

_Wish I was cold as stone,  
>Then I wouldn't feel a thing.<br>Wish I didn't have this heart,  
>Then I wouldn't know the sting of the rain.<br>I could stand strong and still,  
>Watching you walk away.<br>I wouldn't hurt like this,  
>Or feel so all alone.<br>I wish I was cold as stone._

Tears leaked out from Santana's clenched eyes. One of the things she loved most about the girl singing so hauntingly behind the door was her open heart and eternal optimism. Brittany chose to see the best in people, and she approached life as some grand and wonderful surprise waiting to be discovered. Santana loved that hopefulness, and she spent most of her life trying to protect the cheerful girl from the harsh realities of what Santana knew to be a cruel and unforgiving world. To hear this sweet, carefree woman lament the very things Santana held so dear broke her heart. To know that she was the cause, well Santana just couldn't bear the thought.

She leaned her back against the door, not wanting to hear any more but believing she owed it to her friend to try.

_Yeah, it's gonna take forever to get over you.  
>Oh, and I don't think this pain's gonna go away.<br>Oh, scars that when it's said and done remain._

_I wish I was cold as stone._

Brittany's voice cracked and Santana felt a sharp pain in her chest at the sound. She sank to the floor, burying her head in her knees. She didn't know how to protect Brittany from herself, from her fucked up life and overwhelming fears. She didn't know what to do anymore.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Landon's large duffel bag slapped against her thigh as she walked towards the girls locker room to get ready for the game. Her soft steps echoed loudly in the empty halls, drowning out the sound of hurried footsteps approaching her from behind.

"Hey Landon," Schuester called out, jogging up next to the jock. Landon glanced at him, adjusting the strap of her bag across her chest before continuing her slow march to the lockers.

"What's up?" Landon asked, keeping her eyes forward but not dismissing the man completely.

"What are you doing out here?" Schuester wondered aloud. "Shouldn't you be with Coach Bieste and the guys?"

Landon scoffed at him. "Yea, well, if you hadn't noticed, I'm a girl. And as the only girl on the team, I get my very own changing room all to myself. So while the guys get to chum it up together as a _team_, I get to freeze my ass off in an empty locker room until Bieste comes get me. Just part of that 'special treatment' I get so much of."

"Landon, look," Will grabbed her gently on the arm, stopping her progress. "I know you're in a rush here, but I wanted to talk to you about glee."

"What about it?" She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back on her heels.

"You didn't come to practice this week."

"Yea, well, I'm not sure if it's the team for me," she threw his words back at him.

Will ran a hand through his hair, scrunching the curls at the top of his head. "I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I didn't hear you out and it wasn't fair."

Landon raised an eyebrow at him. "And?" She shrugged. "Nothing's changed. I'm not making a fool of myself and the group just for some bullshit platitude about team unity." She thumped her chest with a fist. "I lay my ass out in practice every day for a team that doesn't acknowledge I exist half the time. I stand on that sideline and I fucking cheer every play even though it kills me not to be on the field. I do it cuz I love my sport and I'm part of the team. That matters to me." She took a deep breath. "I'd do the same for glee but I won't compromise who I am for anyone. But don't tell me I'm not a fucking team player."

"Okay," he raised his hands, palms out towards the jock. "My choice of words was poor, and I didn't mean to question your sincerity or commitment. I'm used to running glee a certain way and sometimes I forget that what was best then isn't necessarily what's best now. You're an important part of glee club, Landon." He reached up and placed a hand on her shoulder. "We need you back. I want you to come back."

Landon uncrossed her arms and put her hands on her hips. "What about Invitationals?"

Schuester smiled at the jock. "I've already got your new outfit on order."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Santana didn't much feel like going to tonight's football game, but it was Homecoming and she knew she was expected to be there. Kurt and the glee girls planned on meeting at the stadium and sitting together to cheer on the boys and Landon. Santana couldn't think of a good enough excuse to miss the big event. So with a heavy sigh, she reluctantly made her way to her closet to look for something to wear.

While no one had said anything—they knew better than to get into Santana's business—it was clear that her fellow glee clubbers had sensed the tension between the usually inseparable pair. Over the past week, the two best friends set themselves up on opposite sides of the choir room and did their best to avoid each other during group numbers. To Santana, the distance and isolation felt very much like the days when Brittany and Artie were together.

_Stop__it_, she berated herself. She had no right to be jealous then and she sure as hell had no right now.

Santana had ended up chickening out at Brittany's earlier that day, choosing to tuck tail and sneak out of the blonde's home rather than approach the distraught girl. Now, faced with seeing Brittany at the game, Santana was a bit of a mess. Her stomach burned and there was a pounding behind her eyes that made her want to stick her head in a blender and pulse.

She blew a stray hair out of her face, shook her head in disgust, and threw on a pair of ripped jeans and her red WMHS hoodie, pausing only to grab her keys before finally heading out.

As usual, she was the last of the glee club to arrive but Quinn had saved her a seat next to her at the end of the long bleacher they all shared. Brittany sat at the far end next to Tina, but the two nervous girls shared a brief, awkward glance before Brittany turned away to look back on the field.

Santana shoved her hands in the pocket of her hoodie and sighed. She looked out at the Titans, massed in a large huddle by their sideline, jumping up and down en masse. Bieste was in the center, shouting what Santana assumed were encouraging words to the team. When the huddle broke and the special teams unit took the field to receive the kick off, the ex-Cheerio could finally make out Landon, her pristine red and white uniform practically glowing under the stadium lights.

Although Santana wasn't particularly interested in football, she knew this was a big game for the team. Not only was it Homecoming, they were playing a division rival with an unbeaten record. She knew this would be their biggest test of the season.

Landon turned toward their section suddenly and raised her helmet in the air, hoisting it up and down over her head. Their entire row hooted and hollered their excitement and Landon's startling white smile shone from clear across the field, making Santana's heart jump just a bit.

The jock knelt on one knee next to the team bench. The Titans would start at their own 20, and as her teammates lined up, she eyed the defense closely, scanning for weaknesses. At the snap of the ball her fist flexed against the grip it had on her face mask and she leaned forward.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Santana cringed as Finn fell under the weight of three defensive players. Much like Finn's body, the Titans were getting crushed. The opposing team was just too fast. They were smothering the offense as soon as the ball was snapped, and the Titans just couldn't keep up. She groaned audibly as the punting unit took the field once again. It was the start of the third quarter and McKinley was down 21 to nothing.

As she slouched down into her seat, a familiar bald head bobbing in front of the stands caught her eye. A tall, lanky figure wearing a dark blue Carmel sweatshirt leaned up against the concrete stairs leading up to the bleachers. She stood suddenly, surprising Quinn at her side.

"Where are you going?" Quinn asked, grabbing her arm as she stood.

"I know him," Santana replied, her eyes never wavering from the young boy. "I'll be right back." Curious hazel eyes followed her down the stands.

"Hey," Santana called, tapping the boy lightly on his shoulder. "Almon, right?"

Almon turned, surprised that anyone here knew him. His brows furrowed as he took Santana in. When recognition dawned, he broke out into a dazzling, very Shariff-style grin.

"Lima Heights," he said excitedly, making the brunette blush.

"Santana," she replied with a smile. "What are you doing here? Does Landon know you made it out?"

He shook his head, familiar chameleon eyes glittering under the lights. "It's my first game." He turned to watch his sister stalk the sideline, frustration evident in her twitching arms and short, abrupt movements. "She's really good, right?" he asked, not taking his eyes off his big sis.

"Yea, she is," Santana stated simply.

"Why don't they put her in then?"

The brunette shook her head. "It's complicated." She paused, wondering. "How'd you know she was good?" Even through his dark complexion, Santana could detect the faint hint of a blush.

"I've been reading about her. My mom has this big collection of articles and stuff from when Landon started football all the way through MLK. Did you know she was even interviewed for the local paper? They talked about her like she was Peyton Manning or something," he said, pride clear in his voice.

Santana scoffed. "Didn't think your mom gave a damn." Almon turned angry eyes on her. She huffed a little. "Sorry," she said without sincerity.

"Look, I know they've been dicks about her, you know, being with girls and stuff. But it's not my mom's fault." He turned back to the field. "She hasn't forgotten about her, you know. She comes here every day to pick up that stupid Muckraker of yours just to see if she's in it. When my dad's not home she cries all the time for her."

"Fat lot of good it does Landon," Santana mumbled under her breath.

"She doesn't have a lot of options, okay," he shot back angrily. "Once I make it to the pros, I'm taking her and Hani out of there. Landon can come with us then if she wants to too."

Santana smiled. She liked this kid. He had Landon's strength and determination. She could see in his eyes that he meant every word.

The collective groan of the McKinley High fans pulled them out of their conversation and they watched dejectedly as the opposing team trotted untouched into the endzone once again.

"This is depressing," Almon sighed. He looked back over at Santana. "So you're like Landon's girlfriend or something?"

Santana smiled awkwardly. "Or something." She looked back into the stands to see two sets of curious eyes on her, one hazel and one brilliant blue. Quinn mouthed "who's that" to her and she waved the small blonde off. "Hey, you wanna come sit with me and my friends? I'll take you down to see Landon after the game."

Almon shrugged. "Cool."

When they reached the bleacher the glee crew occupied Santana pushed Quinn on the shoulder, "make room, lardo."

Quinn rolled her eyes and the club wiggled down the bench as much as they could.

"This is Almon," she told Quinn offhandedly. At Quinn's questioning stare, she sighed and continued, "he's Landon's brother."

The blonde reached across Santana to offer her hand to Almon. "I'm Quinn. Nice to meet you."

"Same," he said, taking her hand awkwardly before releasing it and turning back to the game.

Quinn eyed the young man surreptitiously. It surprised her how little she knew about the charismatic jock. She had to admit that her preoccupation with Brittany's welfare meant she hadn't really done much to get to know the new girl. And while her loyalties would always be with Brittany, she vowed to talk to Landon more and see what it was that made Santana give up her girl so easily.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Landon stood just outside the ring of starters, listening to Bieste's instructions to the team. It was a much needed timeout if the heavy breathing and fatigued faces were any indication.

"We gotta move the pocket. They're killing us with the blitz. Finn," she pulled him close by the collar of his pads, "you're gonna have to use your feet to avoid the rush."

The lumbering quarterback was sucking air, his hands on his knees as he tried to listen to Bieste. Someone thrust a water bottle in his face and he squirted a long stream into his open mouth, swishing the cool liquid around before spitting it out. They were beat up and demoralized. Truthfully, the pain and fatigue wouldn't have been so strong if they weren't getting their asses handed to them at the moment. They just needed a little boost, one good play to reenergize the team.

But Finn wasn't sure he could give it to them. "I can't Coach," he huffed. "They're too fast."

"Then we gotta be faster!"

Finn ducked his head. He knew he couldn't pull this off. Footwork and evading had never been his strong suits. Hell, he could barely keep up with basic glee choreography on his best day. "I can't keep up, Coach," he breathed heavily. He closed his eyes briefly before meeting Bieste's. "You gotta put Riff in."

The starters fell silent and turned to the jock listening in from the side. They were half hopeful half wary. They all knew how good the girl was, but she was still a girl afterall. They turned to Bieste who looked from Landon to Finn.

Landon straightened her back and squared her shoulders at the scrutiny.

"What do you think Riff?" Bieste questioned, her tone low and serious.

"I got this Coach," she said confidently.

"You sure about this Finn," Puck asked, trying to support his friend but wanting to win just the same.

Finn eyed the tall girl before nodding. "We need her."

"Alright," Bieste bellowed. "You're in," she pulled Landon by the shoulder. "Quick route to Chang. They're coming for you," she stared the tall jock down. "Be ready."

Landon nodded before pulling her helmet on, slapping the side a couple times to pump herself up.

"They're putting Landon in!" Tina yelled, causing the entire row to look up just in time to watch the tall girl jog on to the field with the team. Landon's name was announced over the loudspeaker and the crowd murmured uneasily. They had all heard about the standout, but having never seen her play, they wondered how much of the athlete was hype and gimmick and how much was actual talent and skill.

Santana grabbed Almon's hand instinctively and held it tight.

Landon's whole body was buzzing. As she crouched under center, her eyes scanning the defense. She could see them eyeing her back hungrily. They were gunning for her and she knew it. She gave a hard count, hoping to draw someone off but no one bit. She stepped back and tapped her foot, signaling the center to snap the ball.

They were on her faster than any defense she'd played in the past, but she side-stepped to the left, avoiding the primary onslaught, and chucked the ball deep to Mike. As soon as the ball left her hand she knew she'd be hit. The air was pushed out of her lungs when she contacted the ground and her whole body burned, but she rolled out from under the defender quickly and looked up in time to see Mike tuck the ball in and run for an extra ten yards before being tackled. One play. Fifty yards. Their best gain of the night. The roar of the crowd echoed in her head as she stood, dusted her hands off on her knees, and jogged forward with the rest of her team.

When she tucked under center again, she smiled wickedly at the defense, winking at the lineman directly in front of her. _Game__on_.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Landon ran the field like a dance, using her legs to dodge tackles and high-step over defenders. With the time she bought with her feet, she directed traffic down field, moving her receivers to where she needed them. This was what she was waiting for, what she practiced so hard for. This was her moment and she drank it in as if she'd never feel another thing once it all came to an end.

But end it did, with an electrifying comeback and a 35-28 Homecoming victory. When the final whistle blew, the team rallied around Landon, patting her roughly on the back and shaking her by the shoulder pads. When she reached Finn, he extended a hand out to her, palm up. She slapped hers in and gripped tightly. Their eyes held, each trying to convey some kind of understanding and truce to the other.

"Nice job," he uttered, squeezing her hand once more before releasing the jock and backing off, allowing Bieste to swoop in and pull Landon into a bone-crushing embrace harder than any hit she'd taken all night.

Bieste dismissed the team so that they could greet their friends and family before changing. Finn hustled into the tunnel that would take him to the locker room, not wanting to face his friends just yet. He knew he did the right thing. The score was evidence of that. But sometimes doing what's right really fucking sucked.

Landon made her way with Puck and Mike to meet the gleeks in the stands. She stopped short, however, when she caught sight of a tall, skinny boy standing awkwardly next to Santana. She swore her heart stopped beating in that moment. When it started thumping rapidly once again, she took off in a dead sprint toward the pair. She stopped directly in front of Almon, taking in the young man that had grown so much in the three years since she last saw him, _really_ saw him. She grabbed him forcefully by the shoulders and pulled him into a tight embrace. Her shimmering eyes met Santana's over Almon's shoulder, and the small brunette's heart melted at the sight.

"What are you doing here?" Landon asked after a long moment, pushing him back a step to look him over once again. "Does dad know you're here?"

Almon rolled his eyes. "What do you think?" He shook his head. "He thinks I'm out studying with friends."

"Almon," she admonished.

"What? I wanted to see you."

Landon ducked her head, her eyes watering at the admission. "Well, I'm glad you're here. " She turned to Santana bringing the brunette into the conversation. "So what did y'all think?"

"Total fucking boss," Almon said proudly.

"Watch your language," Landon cuffed him lightly on the back of the head. "There's a lady present." She winked at Santana.

Almon scoffed, "you mean Lima Heights here?"

"Hey!" Santana said indignantly, holding back a grin. "Nice job, Shariff. Although you missed that easy slant to Puck in the fourth," she teased.

Landon rolled her eyes. "Did you see that defense? I barely had the ball in my hands before they were all over me."

The trio shared easy smiles.

"So how much time you got, Almon?" Santana asked.

His smile dimmed. "Actually, I'm already gonna be late. I should be heading back."

Santana could see the disappointment in the siblings' faces. "How'd you get here?" she asked.

He looked away. "Rode my bike," he said quietly.

"Almon!" Landon exclaimed, horrified that her brother had made the long trek from their home to the high school by himself just on his bike. "Gimme a minute to change and I'll drive you back," she offered, not looking forward to making the drive back to the familiar neighborhood and seeing the large house she once called home.

Sensing Landon's struggle, Santana sighed and jumped in. "I can take him. His bike should fit in the back of the Range Rover. "

The two Shariffs looked at the brunette with surprise. "You sure?" Landon asked.

She shrugged. "Yea, it's not a problem. It'll get him home faster than waiting around for you to finish."

"Yo Riff!" Puck called out, causing the group to turn. "Party at my house. Santana knows the way."

Landon waved at the mohawked boy before looking back at Santana and Almon. She put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You gonna be okay?"

He nodded. "Unless she decides to cut me with her razorblades, I should survive," he smirked at the unamused girl.

The jock chuckled. "I meant with dad." She turned a serious stare at him.

"Yea, I got it."

After another full body hug, Landon released the boy and took Santana's hand. "You going to Puck's after?"

Santana bit her lip and shrugged. "I guess. I can meet you back here after dropping him off and you can follow me or we can drop off your truck and ride together."

"Sweet. Hey, you got a phone?" she asked Almon. The young man pulled out an iPhone and handed it to his sister. She typed in her number under the name LS and handed it back. "No pressure, but you can call me if you or Hani need anything. I mean _anything_, Almon." She rubbed his bald head playfully before waving at the pair and jogging away.

Santana and Almon watched her until she disappeared into the dark confines of the stadium tunnel. "Guess it's you and me, bro," she pushed him in front of her, steering him out of the arena and towards the parking lot.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the long wait, all! I figured if Glee can take a hiatus so can I. I know you all were probably hoping for more relationship development here, but I wanted to make sure I didn't leave any loose ends, and now I can focus on the ladies in the next few chapters. Puck's party will be upcoming and while I'll try to get more Brittany in, in all honesty I don't know how prominently she'll feature. She'll be included of course, but at this point it's really Santana that has to get her stuff together and I'm not sure what Brittany can do at this point to make her position any clearer. (I'm up for ideas if you have them!) Thanks for coming with me on this journey. I appreciate all of the reviews and alerts. Please review if you have the time.**


	17. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything.

Chapter Sixteen

Landon ended up jumping in with Santana, leaving her pickup parked outside the other girl's house. The ride over to Puck's was quiet and unusually tense. When Landon and Santana had parted at the stadium, the jock had been in high spirits, having won the big game and seen her brother all in one awesome night. She assumed the girl behind the wheel shared her good mood, but the atmosphere in the SUV was noticeably chilly and Landon wasn't quite sure why.

The jock tapped her fingers nervously on her armrest. "So," she started, pursing her lips before blowing out a quick breath. "Puck's party, huh? Anything I should know before we get there?" she asked, trying to break the tension.

Santana snorted. "Never let Puck make your drink and stay clear of Berry unless you want to sit through a one woman reenactment of _Funny __Girl_." She shrugged. "Puck likes to think his parties are fucking epic but it's really just another excuse for everyone to get trashed and hook up. Inevitably, someone, usually Berry cuz she's so frickin' hard up, will suggest spin the bottle and the whole thing will turn into one giant snog-fest. It's pretty gross, actually," she said, scrunching her face at the thought of how many losers she had made out with at these things. She shook her head to clear out the disturbing thought.

"Hey," Landon said softly, "you okay?" She reached over to rub Santana's arm.

The edgy girl glanced at the jock quickly before moving her eyes back to the road, her fingers flexing on the wheel. "Sure. Course," she deflected, speaking too quickly for it to be true.

"It just seems like you've been kinda distant lately. I thought we all had a good time last weekend, but then I don't hear from you for days." She shrugged. "Felt like you were avoiding me at school and I don't know why." She looked over at the uptight teen, trying to catch her eye. "S'up?"

Santana's heart hammered in her chest and she could feel the familiar burn of fear-based rage bubbling in the pit of her stomach. She tightened her grip on the wheel, making the final turn leading up to Puck's house and parking along the street. "Look," she turned unexpectedly hard eyes on Landon, "I know we're like doing stuff and all, but you aren't my keeper. I don't do possessive bullshit-"

"I wasn't trying to be possessive-"

"So what I do with my time is none of your business. If I want to spend a week alone and not deal with all of your fucking drama, I'll take it. I don't have to tell you shit." She cast a last, steely glare at Landon before pushing her way out of the car and slamming the door shut.

"What the fuck?" the jock whispered, sitting back in her seat in shock. She shook her head and exited the vehicle slowly, her head popping over the SUV just in time to see the small brunette storm into the house and march swiftly out of sight.

Santana stomped through the front door, shoving partygoers out of her way and moving directly to the kitchen. There was a cluster of football players and Cheerios mixing cocktails when she burst in but they scattered quickly at Santana's glare and aggressive posture. She needed a drink and she needed it now. While she had no intention of getting blasted, she desperately needed something to calm her nerves.

The young woman was frustrated and disappointed with herself over losing it with Landon. She hadn't meant to be so harsh but she couldn't take the questions and the caring look in the other girl's eyes. Between hearing Brittany's heartbreak and seeing Landon with Almon, Santana couldn't take it anymore. All of them had been through so much and the surprisingly fragile brunette felt like their collective happiness was all resting on her shoulders.

Santana eyed the assortment of bottles on the island in the kitchen. She grabbed the closest one, not caring what it was, and filled a red plastic cup with the clear liquid, splashing in some OJ to make it palatable. It wasn't until she picked the cup up that she noticed her hands were shaking. She set her drink down and clenched her fists briefly before slamming her palms on the cold, linoleum countertop. Her head dropped to her chest and she breathed slowly, trying to slow her racing pulse. When she felt settled enough, she swiped the cup off the table and threw it back, the cheap, rotgut liquor burning as it slid down her throat. She gasped, pulling the empty cup from her lips and tossing it aside.

_What __the __fuck __are __you __doing_, she berated herself.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Landon entered Puck's house cautiously. She was still unsettled by Santana's outburst and, football hero or not, she still felt a bit like an outsider at McKinley. The jock walked through the foyer and down a hall, trying to follow the sounds of a bass-driven beat and alcoholically-enhanced laughter and raised voices. They led her outside to a large backyard filled with teens carousing about in various states of intoxication. She took a quick scan of the scene.

Long strings of Christmas lights were draped around the yard, and with the addition of several lanterns the whole space was cast in gentle glow. There was beer pong set up on an old ping-pong table, an inflatable kid's pool filled with icy water and bottles of beer and wine coolers, and a stereo blaring a mindless dance tune that pulsed out a heavy, constant thump sitting on a folding chair near the door to the house.

The jock saw a few glee kids sitting along a stone potter that circled the entire yard. Just as she was going to make her way over, she was startled by a deafening, energetic Puck in her ear.

"There she is! Man of the hour! So to speak," he winked at her and clapped her roughly on the back.

Landon blushed at the introduction and the cheers that rang out to greet her. She waved awkwardly, ducking her head at the attention. Puck pulled her over to the kiddie pool.

"Pick your poison. We got beer and wine coolers here. Hard liquor's in the kitchen," he chucked a thumb back towards the house.

"Beer's fine," she said.

Puck leaned down and grabbed an icy bottle, wrapping his shirt around the top and twisting the cap off before handing it to the jock. "So where's Santana? Didn't she come with?" he asked, taking a pull of his own beer.

Landon took a long, slow swallow of her drink. "She's around," she shrugged, sparkling gold eyes looking anywhere but directly at the boy.

Puck chuckled, "fucking girls, huh?" He slapped her hard on the back, a wide smile spreading across his face. "If I knew you had it hard for Lopez, I would've tried to warn you. Chick runs hot and cold. You think you got her figured out and everything's sweet, next thing you know she's reaming you out and handing you your nuts in a sack."

Landon stood stiffly. She didn't know how to respond or what was appropriate to say. Even after Landon's duet with Brittany, Santana was still convinced that the losers in glee (Quinn excluded) were clueless to what was really going on, too dim and self-involved to understand the significance of the performance. And the tall jock had agreed to keep things on the down low for Santana's sake. She didn't want to reveal too much to Puck, particularly since Santana's anger was still so fresh in her mind. She didn't want to face the irritated woman if she said the wrong thing.

"Come on," Puck laughed. "Don't be a pussy and pretend you ain't tapping that." He sipped his beer. "Santana likes to think she's all stealth and shit but the way she overreacts gives her away every time."

He cocked his head to the side, gesturing to a couple of lawn chairs set up in a corner farthest from the stereo. They plopped down in the low seats, the flimsy chairs sinking into the grass under their weight.

Landon was quiet, thinking it was safest to just let the mohawked boy continue to talk.

"Yea, Santana likes to act all badass, like she's got it all together and nothing matters. Truth is I've never known anyone who cared so fucking much about _everything_." He sighed, leaning back and kicking his legs out, crossing them at the ankles. "You know," he flung his head to the side, catching the jock's eye, "Santana and I used to do the dirty, right?"

Caught off guard, Landon ended up choking on her beer, the ice cold liquid invading her nasal passages and making her eyes water.

"What?" she sputtered, coughing to clear the beer out of her nose and throat.

Puck laughed heartily at the jock's distress, slapping her on the back futilely. "Calm down, Stud," he quipped. "It's ancient history."

Landon ran the back of her hand across her mouth, her breathing finally returning to normal. Santana was one big fucking mystery. Just when she thought she had the beautiful girl figured out, the mystifying teen would throw her for another fucking loop.

"So what happened? What ended things?"

Puck scoffed. "Geez, Riff, you can be such a fucking chick sometimes. It's not like we were dating or anything. It was just a way to get off and Santana did it more for status than anything."

Landon nodded, gripping her beer in both hands, smoothing her thumbs across the fraying label.

"You _so_ would've been better off chasing some mindless Cheerio tail. Don't get me wrong," he slouched back into his seat, cuddling his bottle to his chest, "she's fucking sex on a stick and there was nothing better than having her sex on my stick." Landon rolled her eyes at him. "But she's so fucking distant. She only lets you get so close," his voice turned low, almost pained, "before she pushes you away and you're stuck behind some fucking brick wall she's set up around her." He looked out across the yard, scanning the scene without really taking anything in. "Fuck," he sighed unexpectedly, whipping his head away from Landon and taking a long drag off his beer.

"You loved her," Landon said softly, almost to herself.

Puck let out a cold, humorless laugh. "You don't get to love Santana Lopez. She'd never give you that much. It's all about power for her and there's no way in hell she'd give that kind power to anyone." His eyes clouded over in thought, in distant memories of a time that seemed so far away. Finally, he smirked callously. "Unless you're a certain blue-eyed blonde, of course. Then the sun doesn't fucking shine unless you're there to make it."

That caught Landon's attention and she turned interested eyes on the mohawked boy. She quirked an eyebrow at him, urging him to continue.

"Please," he waved a hand dismissively at her, "like you haven't noticed Legs over there draped all over her 24/7."

Landon looked over to see Brittany jumping up and down excitedly, cheering Tina on at beer pong. She shook the poor girl eagerly as Tina tried her best to down her beer without spilling it all over her clothes.

The jock ran her thumbnail under the corner of the silver label of her beer. "They're best friends," she shrugged. "Of course they're close."

"Come on," he said, rolling his eyes at her. "You throw a football like a dude-"

"I throw a football like a quarterback," she interrupted, turning steely eyes at him.

"Okay, okay, don't go all Gloria Steinem on me. Just saying that you act like a dude most of the time but don't tell me you're as frickin' dense as we are. You gotta be blind not to see what's going on with those two."

Landon downed her beer, setting the empty bottle on the grass next to her feet. She leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees. "What are you trying to say, Puck?"

There was a heavy pause before he finally answered. "I may have been a selfish asshole when Santana and I were hooking up. And I did a hell of a lot wrong, but she was never really available anyway. I don't care if she's bi or gay or whatever, but even back then I knew I'd always come second to Britt."

Landon shook her head and leaned back, rubbing her forehead with one hand. "I don't know what to do," she whispered. "I try to move at her pace, not expect too much, you know." She looked up into surprisingly sympathetic eyes. "It just never seems like enough. Like _I__'__m_ not enough."

"Oh come on," Puck laughed. "Quit all that self-pitying bullshit. You know you're fucking badass and the number one stud at McKinley. Hey," he brought his hand up to his chest, "I'm secure enough to admit that. You got game, Shariff. And you could have any piece of ass at the school. I just don't know how you can compete against _that_," he tipped his beer towards a makeshift dance floor in the yard.

A fast-paced hip hop beat had come on and they watched the beautiful blonde shimmy out onto the floor, her short-shorts and tall boots showing off incredibly toned legs. The way her body moved was criminal and Landon had to swallow hard at the excess saliva that had built up in her mouth. Brittany pulled a tipsy Rachel Berry up next to her, grabbing the small girl's arms and flinging their bodies around with abandon.

"And it's not Brittany's fault," he continued, forcing the jock's attention away from dancer. "It's just how they are, you know. I don't think either of them can help it. And that fucking sucks for you, dude."

Landon sighed and sat back in her seat. "Fucking girls," she mumbled, covering her eyes with her palms.

Puck laughed. "Come on, Stud. Let's ditch the weak-ass beer and get to the hard stuff. Looks like you need it."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Santana could hear the constant hum of activity coming from the backyard and knew that that was where most of the partygoers had wandered off to. She just couldn't bring herself to go out there and join them. Instead, she plopped herself down on a couch in the living room, turning disgusted eyes on the various couples making out around her.

There was a brief burst of noise caused by the opening of the sliding doors that led outside before the sounds died back down to a dull throb once again. She looked up and saw Quinn walking towards her, ubiquitous red cup in hand.

"I'm _so_ not in the mood to get into anything, Fabray," she sighed wearily.

The tiny blonde raised her hands, signaling that she came in peace. She settled into the seat next to Santana, not saying a word.

The unsettled brunette fidgeted in the silence, glancing every so often next to her to see what Quinn was doing. She drummed her fingers impatiently on the armrest of the couch, her foot tapping out a matching, nervous rhythm.

The perfectly put-together blonde sipped her drink, scrunching her nose at the taste before placing the cup carefully by her feet. Santana narrowed her eyes at her. She pursed her lips together tightly, sucking lightly on her teeth.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Fabray, just say something already," Santana shouted suddenly.

Wide hazel eyes met her stare briefly before they both broke into a fit of giggles.

The couple necking closest to them broke apart for a second to turn confused eyes on the chuckling teenagers. They shook their heads before diving back in again, trying to ignore the distracting movements of the ex-Cheerios next to them.

After the pair finally calmed down and composed themselves, Quinn turned soft eyes to the brunette.

"I'm really not trying to start anything with you, Santana," she said cautiously. "I'm just worried about you, that's all." She watched the girl's walls go up immediately and she sighed sadly. "I know you're going through stuff and you don't want to talk about it, but you're going to have to let someone in eventually. We used to have each other's back and I want you to know that I still have yours."

Santana turned away from Quinn, picking at a perfectly filed nail. "It's nothing. There's nothing to talk about."

"So why are you hiding out in here when the party's out there? Didn't you come with Landon?"

She sighed. "Okay, so maybe there's _something_," she admitted, "but I've got a handle on it, okay?" She glanced over at the blonde, and with the liquor in her system and the pity in Quinn's eyes she finally snapped. Words tumbled out without her consent, and once she started, she couldn't stop.

"It's just complicated, okay! Brittany found out about me and Landon, and now she's all overly worked up about it, and Landon doesn't know jack shit about anything. And she's got this fucked up family and has only ever been there for me when I didn't really deserve it, and it's just a fucking mess, okay. I fucking messed up. Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Quinn reached out immediately and pulled Santana into her arms, holding the struggling girl tightly.

Santana tried her best to push the small girl away but Quinn didn't budge. The dark-haired girl dug her fingers into Quinn's back, her arms having wrapped themselves around the blonde despite her attempts to break free. The warm softness of Quinn was too much for her and everything came pouring out. She clung desperately to the other girl, sobbing into a supple shoulder, unable to control the flow of tears or how her body heaved with uneven breaths.

Quinn's shirt was sticking to her uncomfortably but she held on tight and refused to let go. Santana Lopez was breaking in front of her and she wasn't going to let the young woman down.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Landon quickly realized she should have heeded Santana's advice and kept the mohawked boy away from her drink. The stuff tasted like rocket fuel, making her eyes water and her nostrils burn. She would man up and finish it—she wasn't about to pussy out in front of her teammates, especially having just earned some respect on the field—but it felt like she was ingesting battery acid. The tall jock parked herself a low wall in the back of the yard and leaned against the fence. Puck had moved on to beer pong, leaving her with his "surefire, feel no pain and forget the girl" cocktail and a head full of troubled thoughts.

"Landon!" a cheery voice bellowed in her ear. She flinched from the volume and the heavy weight that settled suddenly on her arm. She turned to find Rachel Berry snuggling into her side, the tiny girl clearly blitzed off her ass.

"Hey Rach," she smiled kindly at the intoxicated girl.

"You were so, so good tonight!" Rachel leaned against her even more, wrapping an arm around her firm bicep and practically sitting in the jock's lap. "When you jumped over that big bully of a man and ran into the touchdown place, I have tell you, I could see the Sapphic appeal of your…," she grabbed Landon's arm, squeezing the girl's muscle and momentarily losing her train of thought. "Your…. Uh, what was I saying?" she blinked up at Landon.

"Um…"

"Oh right, I could certainly see the appeal of your rather impressive attributes." She smiled cheekily.

"Uh, thanks?"

"Now, now, I am perfectly happy with my Finny," she slurred, patting the jock's tummy in a pacifying gesture, "but there were moments," she hiccupped, "moments when I've thought about dabbling in the forbidden waters of," she leaned in close and attempted to lower her voice, which wasn't quite successful, "lesbian sex." The smashed girl raised a finger to her lips and giggled. "But I would never leave my Finny. He has my heart," she sighed wistfully.

"That's…that's great, Rachel." Landon smiled warmly at the girl, charmed by the young starlet's inebriated cuteness.

"Oh wait!" Rachel called out suddenly, sitting up straight. "I'm supposed to be mad at you!" She slapped Landon on the shoulder.

"Hey!"

"You're a naughty, naughty girl." The small brunette shook her head dramatically. "How could you do that? Glee club's a family," she admonished. "And you don't go against the family," she said in her best Godfather imitation.

"Uh, is this about Invitationals? Schue and I got all that sorted. I'm back in glee."

Rachel pouted and shook her head.

Landon's brows furrowed, wracking her brain for how else she might have offended the songstress. "Is this about Finn? I'm sorry I took his spot. But I don't really decide-"

"No silly," she huffed. "I don't care about football. No, no this is far, far more serious. You," she leaned in, resting her head on Landon's shoulder, "you're being mean to Brittany."

The jock stiffened at the name.

"You're making her so, so sad." Rachel batted big brown eyes up at Landon.

"I don't know what to tell you, Rachel. I'm not doing anything to Brittany."

The tiny girl continued pouting, slapping the jock on the shoulder again. "Yes you are, you big meanie. You can't come between Brittany and Santana. They're like my lesbian stepsisters who love me even though they pretend not to … and they sometimes lock me in the janitor's closet … or slushie me … or take all my lunch money," she sighed wistfully, blinking back sudden tears. "I just love them!" She threw herself against the jock, wrapping her arms around Landon's neck.

The jock patted her back awkwardly. "Rachel, whatever's going on is their business. I have nothing to do with them."

"Oh," she picked her head up off of Landon's shoulder and waved at her dismissively, "don't be daft. We can't leave it up to them! They've already made a big fat mess of things!"

Rachel clutched tightly at the girl, casting foggy brown eyes up to meet unsure gold ones. "This is really hurting Brittany, and she's just so sweet, and slow, and innocent, and" she hiccupped again, "she needs someone to look out for her. So here I am!" She narrowed her eyes, the heavy lids threatening to fall and stay closed for a second before she snapped them open wide and pointed a shaky finger in the jock's face. "Stop it. Bad Landon. Bad girl," she waved her finger back and forth.

Landon shook her head, a sad, tight-lipped smile gracing her face. "Rachel, I'm not doing anything to Brittany. And I think she's more than capable of taking care of herself. You shouldn't underestimate her."

Rachel pouted and leaned her head back on the jock's strong shoulder. "You're so nice," she turned her face into the girl's arm, "and warm." Her voice drifted and Landon turned to see the starlet passed out, clinging to her body, a squeaky snore slipping through her parted lips.

"What is my life?" Landon sighed.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"Sorry, I'm sorry," Santana whispered, rubbing the Quinn's shoulder where her tears had saturated the thin material.

"Forget about that," Quinn dismissed, running slender fingers along Santana's face and tucking a wavy, dark curl behind the girl's ear. "You feel better?"

"Shit, Q. I don't even know anymore." Santana pulled away. Her crying fit left her feeling raw and exposed, and the close contact was beginning to sting. She tucked her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, hugging herself tightly.

"What happened with Brittany?" Quinn asked softly, bringing her legs up on the couch and folding them under her.

Santana set her chin on her knees. She stared out into nothing, unsure of how much of herself to reveal. _Fuck__it_, she thought, sighing loudly. She'd already made an ass of herself by breaking down in front of the one person she always considered her top rival. What else did she have to lose?

"She knows," she said simply, turning her head to look into thoughtful, hazel eyes, resting her cheek against her knees. "Brittany knows about me and Landon and I don't know what to do now."

Quinn nodded, not entirely sure what she could tell her friend at that point. She knew this was bad and part of her was really pissed at Santana. She wanted to yell at the girl, get out all of her "I told you so's" and "I knew it all along's" and "you should've just listened to me's." But taking in the small girl—and in that moment Santana looked so incredibly small—the only thing she could think about was how to comfort her friend. "So what now?" she asked.

Santana shook her head sullenly. "I don't know. Break it off with Landon and then do what with Britt? Stay with Landon and lose my best friend? Give 'em both up and join a fucking convent? I don't know." The dark-haired girl leaned back, finally releasing her legs and stretching them out in front of her.

"I'm not exactly ready to shave my head and join a lesbian commune. Britt won't be happy with the way things were and I don't know how to do anything different. Landon says she doesn't need anything more from me but this thing with B," she paused, shaking her head, "it's pissing her off and I can't really blame her. Shit." She threw her head back against the couch and groaned. "Why is everything so fucking hard?"

Quinn chuckled. "Because you're Santana Motherfucking Lopez, and you don't know how to do easy." The two ex-Cheerios shared a quick, wry smile before the blonde dropped her eyes momentarily. "Do you love her?" She looked up to see Santana's raised eyebrow, and grinned. "Landon," she clarified.

"I don't know. When I'm with her," Santana paused, exhaling forcefully, "it's just…easy." She laughed derisively, "at least it used to be."

The small blonde backhanded her playfully on the shoulder. "Not everything's supposed to be easy. Sometimes the best things in life are the things you gotta fight the hardest for." Quinn dropped her eyes, fiddling with the fringe of her skirt. A lump had formed unexpectedly in her throat and she swallowed hard, images of a tiny, pink-wrapped bundle and peach fuzz head suddenly invading her mind. She jerked back in surprise at the feel of a warm, soft hand wrapping around her own. Compassionate brown eyes met hers and she squeezed back, a watery smile gracing her lips.

After a moment, Quinn cleared her throat and sat back. "You know you gotta talk to them, right?" she said, directing attention back to the troubled brunette.

"Yea," Santana replied simply. "I know."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Landon was in the kitchen trying to decide what combination of liquor would get her drunk the fastest without testing her gag reflex. She picked up various bottles and read the labels, trying to decide if coconut-mango rum and banana vodka would mix well with Coca Cola.

"Hey."

She turned at the soft greeting, watching Kurt saunter up and lean against the counter next to her. "So … drama in the world of ladies-loving-ladies, huh?"

The quarterback sighed and set the bottle of rum she was holding down, her fist curling around the neck. "I swear, Kurt, if you're here to tell me how I'm ruining things for Santana and Brittany and how innocent and perfect Brittany is and how I'm destroying her life, I'm going throw this bottle clear across the fucking room."

"Hey, I come in peace," he said, raising his palms in a calming gesture. He quirked his lips in a half-smile. "Glee kids giving you a hard time?"

Landon closed her eyes and turned to lean back next to Kurt. After Puck and Rachel, she had been cornered by Mercedes and Tina, the pair's alcohol-fueled rambling focusing exclusively on how precious Brittany was and how the young dancer didn't deserve to get caught up in all of Santana's crap and how it would probably be best for everyone if the tall jock just backed off and let the two friends go back to the way things were. The entire conversation had given her a headache, forcing her to take refuge in the kitchen and seek out alcoholic oblivion.

"How did I become the bad guy in all of this?" she asked, thoroughly exhausted by the night.

Kurt grimaced knowingly. "It's just cuz you're new. No one's brave enough to confront Santana so you make the safer target. I know it sucks. Being picked on never feels good, even if the intentions behind it come from a good place."

The jock nodded, frustrated but understanding the motivations behind the club's actions. They were defending their friend, and even if she hadn't intended it, she was seen as a threat to one of their own.

"So what should I do?" she asked.

Kurt answered with a shrug. "Well, you could stop whatever you have with Santana."

Landon closed her eyes and dropped her head to her chest.

"Or you could just ignore it. We're all pretty protective of Brittany, so it's hard to see her upset. But," he nudged her shoulder, "you're part of our little dysfunctional, disturbingly incestuous family now too. And if you give us some time, we'll get our heads out of our respective orifices and see that it's none of our business."

The jock gave him a wide, toothy smile. She wrapped a strong arm around his shoulder and pulled him roughly to her. "Thanks, Kurt," she said appreciatively, giving him a sloppy kiss on the side of his head.

"Ew, girl cooties," he joked, pulling away and fussing with his perfectly coiffed hair.

They looked up at the sound of a clearing throat to see Santana standing awkwardly in the doorway, arms crossed protectively over her chest.

"Beat it, Louise," she said coolly, cocking her head to the side and gesturing to the other room.

"Guess that's my cue to leave," Kurt replied. "See you around, Landon, Satan," he said before making a quick exit.

The two girls eyed each other tentatively before Santana dropped her defensive posture and moved to lean against the island in front of the jock.

Landon accepted the move as the peace offering it was intended to be and relaxed. "You want a drink or something," she asked.

"Ah, yea," Santana nodded, turning around and grabbing a random bottle off the island she was leaning against. The jock walked up to her, standing close but not touching. They mixed their drinks in silence before taking them outside and finding a quiet corner where they could watch the drunken mayhem developing around them.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Santana began after an extended silence. "I shouldn't have went off like that. Things have just been getting really … intense lately and I just feel like …," she closed her eyes and sat back in a huff. All of this "feelings" crap was really fucking with the tight hold she usually kept over her emotions. She constantly felt inadequate and insecure, and she hated it.

"Talk to me," Landon urged her gently. "Tell me about you and Brittany."

With a labored sigh, Santana looked over at the jock. "Britt and I have known each other forever. I don't even think I have memories that don't include her. And the stupid crushes and meaningless hookups , none of that mattered because we had each other and there was never _not_ going to be an us." She brought her drink to her lips and took a small sip. "And I knew once we got to high school I'd have to protect her. She's too beautiful and kind-hearted and innocent."

Landon rolled her eyes at the now overly familiar refrain.

"I knew she'd get eaten alive in that cesspool of a school if I didn't take care of her, of us. So I became Head Bitch, built up our rep, and did everything I could to make sure no one would ever mess with us. And somewhere along the way…" she drifted off. The muscles in her jaw tensed and she squeezed the cup in her hands tightly.

"You fell in love with her."

Santana caught golden eyes for a second before turning away and nodding.

After a long silence, Landon finally spoke up, her voice deep and agitated. "So why am I here, Santana? I don't get it. Why would you go out with me if you two are together?"

Santana shook her head miserably. "We're not together. We were never together."

The jock blew out a frustrated breath and leaned forward. "I don't get it. What are you trying to tell me?"

Fiery brown eyes met the jock's, and Landon flinched a bit at the glare. "I'm telling you that I loved her, okay! I loved her and she rejected me and now we're stuck in a heaping pile of dog shit and you just happened to get caught in it. I'm trying to tell you what's going on! That's what you wanted, right?"

Landon downed her drink and crushed the cup in her hand. "Fine. Explain to me how you're not together. I'm _dying_ to hear it."

"Look, if you're going to be an asshole about this than I won't waste my fucking time." She made a move to stand and Landon grabbed her gently on the wrist, holding her back.

The quarterback exhaled slowly. "I'm sorry. Go on."

Santana leaned back and crossed her legs. She took a sip of her drink before and shrugging a little sheepishly. "Actually, that's all there is."

The tall girl shook her head and laughed, surprising Santana with its warmth and genuineness. "You can't seriously end with that." Landon leaned back. "Why are you not together?"

"I told you," she said quietly. "Brittany rejected me. She didn't want to be with me."

A loud commotion caught their attention and they raised their eyes to see Berry—having woken from her previous stupor—standing with microphone in hand and trying to lead the football team in a spirited rendition of Abba's "Fernando," all of them too shitfaced to realize exactly what they were doing.

"Bullshit."

Santana turned, startled by Landon's interjection. "What?"

"I don't buy it, Santana. You're telling me Brittany—_Brittany_—that girl right there," she pointed to the tall blonde who was currently running in circles, pinching the buttcheeks of Rachel Berry's football pips and grinning wildly. "The girl that looks like she wants to claw my eyes out every time I so much as talk to you, _that_ girl didn't want to be with you?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "Bullshit."

"Hey, I fucking lived it. I think I know better than you what happened," Santana replied indignantly. "It's not exactly a pleasant memory of me."

Landon just shook her head. "No, I'm not buying it. What happened? Really."

Santana rolled her eyes. "I told her I loved her. She said she couldn't be with me cuz she was dating Artie. End of story."

"Wait," Landon held up a hand. "Artie? Artie-Artie? _That_ Artie?" She gestured to the boy wheeling himself back and forth against a flower pot, glasses askew and someone's fedora slapped haphazardly on his head. "Huh, that was unexpected."

"You're telling me," Santana mumbled. She offered her drink to the jock, not really interested in finishing the toxic concoction.

"Thanks." Landon took a large mouthful before setting the cup down between them. "So they're dating? I like _never_ see them together."

"No, no, no. They're not together now. When I told her I loved her they were dating. This was all last year."

The jock groaned, covering her face with her hands. This whole soap opera of a high school experience was working her last nerve. "So they're not together?" Santana nodded. "And Brittany's not seeing anyone?"

"Not that I know of."

"And that was the only reason she gave for not being with you?"

"For the most part."

"And you love her?"

Santana refused to meet the jock's gaze. There was a long pause and Landon wasn't sure if she'd answer the question at all.

"I'll never not love her," she whispered finally, unfocused eyes staring blankly ahead.

Landon picked up Santana's drink and finished it off, her stomach burning but not from the alcohol racing through her body.

"So what's the issue, Lopez?" she stretched her arms wide. "Why aren't you together?"

Santana turned frustrated eyes to the jock. "Are you serious? Have you been listening at all?"

"Yea, I have. And it seems to me like the only thing that was keeping you apart," she pointed to where Artie was now being chased by Puck's miniature dachshund, "is no longer an obstacle. So what's the problem?" She sighed, cocking her head towards the kiddie pool, indicating that she wanted to grab a beer.

They made their way over and Landon bent down and snatched up two bottles, cracking one open and handing it to Santana. The girl shook her head and Landon tossed the closed bottle back into the pool. They moved to lean against the wood fence. The jock quirked her eyebrow, bringing Santana back to her earlier question.

"I don't know. Britt wants this whole fairytale romance where we can hold hands in school and make out in the back of class without anyone giving us any shit for it. She wants to go to prom and double date with the gleeks. It's too fucking much."

"Oh come on, that's not some fairytale bullshit. That's just what everybody does, Lopez. You're really telling me you're not together because of some fucking hand-holding?"

Santana glared at the quarterback. "You're the one who told me to go at my own pace. You know better than anyone the consequences of what we are."

"What? Dykes? Yea, it fucking sucks that we have to go through so much shit to just do what everyone else does. And I'm not telling you to come out or make some grand declaration of your queerness. This just seems so stupid!" Landon was fucking pissed. Her entire relationship with Santana seemed to be based on nothing more than the girl's aversion to public hand holding.

The jock knew after Brittany confronted her in the locker room that she was getting involved in some complex shit. She just never imagined how deep the two best friends' relationship ran. She turned glistening gold eyes on the beautiful girl at her side. All of her anger faded at the sight and she was left feeling exhausted and spent.

"Why the fuck am I here, Santana?" she asked.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thanks for being so patient with the story and updates. This wasn't my favorite chapter but I think there was progress made. And I know what you're thinking: "where the hell is Brittany?" :) I know I said she'd feature here, but it just didn't work with the narrative. But things are really coming to a head so she'll definitely come into play soon. Please review and let me know what you're thinking. We're wrapping things up so if there's something you want to see before it ends, let me know! Also, I've started another Brittana story, "Roughnecks in Love". It's AU, but give it a go! You can find it in My Stories. It's just a bit of fun to start and it features more of the glee crew, so hopefully you'll enjoy it. Please give it a chance and read and review. I love hearing from you.**


	18. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the show.

Chapter Seventeen

"Why the fuck am I here, Santana?" Landon asked.

The animated din of partygoers and Berry's impromptu karaoke session almost drowned out the question, but to Santana it resonated loudly and hung heavy in the air between them. She moved to stand in front of the jock, taking the girl's hands in her own. She blinked down briefly before looking up and squeezing long, calloused fingers, taking in the strong jaw and shimmering eyes of the woman in front of her.

"You're here because I want you here." She bent her head and pressed her forehead against Landon's chest. "I need you, Landon. I just…everything's just really confusing right now. And," long, thick lashes fluttered close, Santana taking a moment to breathe deeply, "and I need you."

Light cocoa eyes looked beseechingly up at the athlete. Landon wrapped a muscular arm around Santana's shoulders, bringing the girl into her chest and kissing the top of her head. "I know." She pulled her in tightly and rested her chin on dark curls, knowing with absolute certainty that the small woman in her arms needed her. She just wasn't sure how—whether it was as a friend or something more.

"So," Landon gave the girl a final squeeze before pushing back and creating space between them. "What went down? I thought we were all getting along." She shrugged and smirked. "At least as much Brittany and I ever really get along. Why the brush off all of a sudden?"

Santana leaned back, shoulder to almost shoulder with Landon. "Brittany knows. About us." It was a simple statement really. But the way her voice deepened and her eyes closed momentarily spoke to how significant the words were. Well, at least for Santana.

Landon scoffed, tipping her beer back and chuckling into the rim of the bottle. She ran a long finger from the corner of her mouth and over her bottom lip, smearing the residue left from her drink. "So, do I need to sleep with a switchblade under my pillow now or what?" Hard brown eyes and flaring nostrils caused the jock to snap her mouth shut with a click though she couldn't quite wipe the smirk from her lips.

"That's not funny. Britt's not like that. She's hurt. That's all."

"And that's my fucking fault, right?" The muscles in her jaw rolled and tensed. She pushed off the fence and shook her head, her hand fisting her beer tightly.

"Fuck, Landon. Have I ever blamed you for any of this?"

"Well you're the only one," she huffed, squaring her shoulders and looking away. The warm weight of Santana's palm on her forearm made her skin tingle and she swung her head up to take in an apologetic look.

"Hey, fuck 'em," Santana soothed. "They know jack shit about what's going on. I'm about to go all Lima Heights on their asses anyway. They won't bother you again. Promise."

Warmth flooded Landon's chest. She placed her chin on the top of Santana's head, wrapping a wide palm on the small girl's shoulder and tugging her close. They stood in silence for a moment, letting the blended hum of revelers wash over them.

"You know you gotta talk to her," the jock's soft voice breaking the calm that had settled over them.

The frustrated brunette pushed away. "I _know_ that. I'm not _that_ big of an asshole, and I'm sick of everyone telling me what to do." She turned her back to the jock. "I got this, okay." She felt strong hands on her shoulders, squeezing gently before turning her around.

Landon leaned her forehead against the shorter girl's. "I know. I know." She inhaled deeply. "Look, you wanna get outta here?" She gestured over her shoulder. "This is obviously not the best time to talk to Brittany."

Santana looked up to see the tall dancer running around the yard in her bright yellow bra, twirling her shirt over her head. She chuckled at her friend's alcohol-fueled stripper routine, sighing wistfully at her playfulness. "Yea. Let's hit it." She grabbed the jock's hand and led her across the yard, throwing a last fleeting look at the beautiful blonde dancing about.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

The two girls had settled in Santana's bed, the small brunette nestling her head on the jock's chest. Landon had borrowed a pair of sweatpants and a tank, both a couple sizes smaller than was needed to cover her fully. But the fabric was soft and the added warmth from Santana's body leaning against her was enough for her to ignore the high-water pants and snug tank top that rode up her belly.

They had been relaxing in silence for quite some time, each lost in the up-and-down events of the day.

Santana turned slowly, flattening her palm against Landon's collarbone and resting her chin on the back of her hand. "Why'd you come out?" she breathed quietly, dark chocolate eyes flickering up to try to catch the tall woman's gaze. "You were so young and your parents don't really seem like the encouraging type. No offense," she grinned, not at all sorry for the slight.

The jock exhaled slowly, blowing air out forcefully through her lips. She rubbed idle circles on the small of Santana's back. "I don't know. Part of me just wanted to piss my dad off, I guess. We'd had this big, blow out fight about some stupid shit. He was always bitching about what it meant to be a good Egyptian woman and wife and I was fucking sick of it. It's like he forgot he married a white woman and woke up suddenly resenting all of us and our mixed blood." She continued the soft caresses against the small girl's back, gaining strength and calm from the heat of the girl in her arms. "No one was good enough. Especially me."

"So you told him you're gay just to piss him off?" Santana smirked slightly. She could totally see Landon doing something like that.

"Well, that's not the _only_ reason," she chuckled. "But yea, part of it was stupid teenage rebellion. Not the being a dyke part, but the fact that I could use being gay to rile him was a lucky bonus." Landon smiled cockily for a second before sighing and moving her hands away from Santana's body and clasping them behind her head. "Course, I didn't know he'd flip as much as he did." Dark gold eyes got hazy, and Santana could see the jock drift off into her memories. When she spoke again, her voice was low and resigned. "Guess he got the last laugh, huh?"

Santana was quiet, running soft fingertips across the exposed skin of the jock's stomach. Her mind raced with images of a young, too thin Landon impulsively and either bravely or foolishly confronting her imposing father, never fully realizing the consequences of her reveal.

"Do you regret it? I mean I know you wouldn't change being out and all," she said in a rush. "But like do you wish you did it different or waited till you were older or whatever?"

Landon moved an arm from behind her head and rubbed her eyes with her thumb and index finger. "I don't know. I mean I wish I hadn't done it so much for spite, but honestly, I don't think I could've stayed closeted much longer anyway. I was kinda getting into things at school and it was probably going to get out sooner rather than later."

"What was going on, or do I even need to ask?" Santana smiled up at the jock.

"It's not as scandalous as I'm sure you're thinking," the quarterback returned the girl's grin. "I was young and dumb and full of," she wagged her eyebrows, "_love_." She winked. "But I wasn't always the best at understanding that there should be feelings and intimacy with the physical stuff back then."

Santana stiffened at the admission. She knew the claim all too well—_with __feelings __it__'__s __better_. But she had yet to be convinced of the fact. With feelings it was certainly more complicated, unspeakably more painful and excruciatingly unbearable. But was it better? She still wasn't sure of that.

"So there were hurt feelings and bad blood," Landon continued. "And if I hadn't shot my mouth off when I did, I'm sure it would've come out anyway. In the end, at least I got to say how it went down. It may not have been the most mature thing to do, but at least I decided it."

"Hm," Santana hummed absently. She turned into the jock's shoulder, breathing her in. "How did you know?" she asked softly, her lips moving lightly against the side of Landon's chest. Big brown eyes flicked up, taking in the raised brow of the girl under her. "How did you know," she clarified, "that you were, you know, gay and stuff."

"Oh," Landon grinned. "It wasn't any big surprise or angsty struggle or anything. I'm not a real deep thinker-"

Santana snorted and tried to cover her gaff by clearing her throat. "'Scuse me," she mumbled, coughing dramatically and hiding her grin in the other girl's chest.

The jock reached down with one hand and smacked Santana on the butt. "Smartass," she ribbed. "You wanna hear this or not?"

"Sorry, sorry. Go on."

"So like, I know it's total cliché and I'm just like some huge queer stereotype, but I sorta always knew." Santana could feel Landon shrug underneath her. "I mean, it had always been girls that I wanted to hold and kiss and," she nudged Santana's shoulder, "you know. And I never really questioned it. If that's what felt good, that's what I was going to do. Like I said, I try not to over-think things. I just go with it most of the time."

"But now that it's all gone to shit? I mean with your family and all. You never question that … choice?"

Landon pushed up and rolled onto her side, forcing Santana to shift off the jock's shoulder and rest her head on a pillow instead. They lay together face-to-face, searching each other's eyes, green-gold and caramel brown seeking answers to questions neither wanted to ask.

"There's no choice for me, Santana," Landon whispered finally. "I can't change who I am or who or what I want. And, honestly, I wouldn't change it if I could." She took a deep breath. "Would you?"

Santana swallowed slowly. "I don't know," she said softly, glistening brown eyes blinking quickly. "Why does it have to be so fucking hard?"

The jock snickered, the corner of her mouth curling up into a small smile. "Don't be a lazy bitch," she shoved Santana's shoulder, trying not to flinch at the death stare the tiny woman shot her way. "Nothing worth having is easy. You gotta fight for what you want. Didn't you tell me that when I was bitching about not being quarterback?" Landon reached out and tucked a wavy curl behind the other girl's ear. "Question is, Miss Lopez," she whispered, "what is it you really want?"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

It was early Saturday morning and Santana was engaged in an intense staring contest with her phone. Her eyes narrowed at the blinking cursor, the lifeless, flickering line mocking her inability to find words. She considered flinging the device out the window to avoid its taunting but she didn't want to go through the hassle of reprogramming a new phone. With heavy, deep-seated groan, she threw herself back on her bed and typed out a quick message, hitting "send" before she had time to reconsider.

_Meet at Lima Bean?_

Santana tossed the device aside and blew out a breath, ruffling the dark, wavy hair falling into her eyes. She knew it was early and considering the state Brittany was in when she and Landon left the party, she wasn't quite sure when or if the blonde would respond. Her fingers tapped out an anxious rhythm on her stomach, not sure whether she was hoping for a quick response or not.

The brunette knew she needed to talk to the blonde; she just hadn't figured out what she was going to say. Everything was out in the open and Santana could no longer live in the happy ambiguity of loving her best friend while dating someone else. She knew difficult talks needed to be had, _feelings_ needed to be (_ugh_) discussed, and decisions had to be made. Before she could dwell on things too intently and make herself sick, however, a soft buzzing near her ear drew her attention.

_Be there in 30._

This was it. Santana pushed herself off her bed, took a deep breath, and smoothed suddenly sweaty hands against the front of her jeans. She swiped her keys off the dresser and without looking back hustled out the door.

She arrived at the café early and ordered her drink along with Brittany's. It was a rather gloomy Ohio morning, keeping many Lima Bean regulars indoors, and so Santana was able to find a table in a quiet corner easily and she settled in with a steaming cup between her hands. A soft chime drew her eyes to the entrance where she saw a disheveled looking Brittany enter. Santana couldn't stop the smile that stretched across her face, puffing out her apple cheeks and revealing perfectly white teeth.

It definitely looked like the drink had gotten the better of the blonde the night before. Her long, flaxen hair was piled high on her head in a sloppy bun, soft tendrils falling around an exceptionally pale face. The blonde wore a pair of baggy, red sweatpants, an oversized blue shirt that hung off one shoulder, and a long fuzzy, grey scarf wrapped in thick layers around her neck. Large, white-rimmed sunglasses shielded her dark blue eyes.

The normally graceful dancer slumped down into the chair across Santana, hanging her head and mumbling "sugar" as she reached out to clutch the beverage Santana bought her. She took a mouthful of whipped cream that topped her overly sweet coffee and hummed appreciatively. "Mm. Yummy."

Santana chuckled, completely smitten by her hungover best friend. "How you feeling?" she asked with a smile.

"Ugh. I'm never drinking anything ever again." She took a sip off the long straw, smacking her lips after swallowing the sugary concoction. "Except this. And Dr. Peppers. Mm, you think they have those here?" She swung her head around, trying to peek over the counter and see if she could spot the signature red-white can.

"I don't think so, B." The dark-haired girl watched Brittany devour her beverage, picking up clumps of whipped cream and caramel with her straw and licking it clean. Santana's heart rate picked up at the sight of a pink tongue running the length of the straw, curling around the cylinder and sliding down. She swallowed hard, mesmerized by the way the slippery muscle moved against the cream-covered plastic.

"Um," she blinked rapidly, forcing herself to avert her gaze, shifting instead to the glass case on her right. "Do you want anything else," she asked eyeing the baked goods, hoping the sight of frosted donuts and flaky pastries would erase the image of Brittany tonguing her drink in front of her.

The dancer smirked, enjoying the brunette's obvious discomfort. She took pride in how she could still affect the smaller girl with the littlest things. "Nah," she shook her head. "This is good." She removed the oversized sunglasses, dropping them on the table and revealing tired, droopy eyes. "So what did you want to talk about?"

Santana flicked her eyes between Brittany and the exit, suddenly feeling cornered and pinned in. She ran a shaky hand through her hair and cleared her throat. "Maybe we should wait till you feel better. I mean, this isn't like a big deal or anything. And it's like super early and Saturday and all. We can totally talk later," she said in a rush.

A pale hand touched her wrist and she clamped her mouth shut. For a moment, all she could do was track long, slender fingers as they traveled across the sensitive skin of her wrist. Brittany ran her thumb up the small scar on the outer edge of Santana's palm and she shivered at the touch and the memory. It was the scar she earned the first day she met Brittany and the then uncoordinated young girl fell on top of her after slipping off the monkey bars.

It was a day that had burned itself into Santana's mind. She had been surprised to say the least, first by the unexpected weight of the lanky girl on top of her and then by the suffocating grip that was suddenly around her neck. Brittany, after noticing the squishy cushion underneath her was moving, had jumped up and spied the sprawled out figure lying flat on the gravel and dirt. She'd flung herself around the brunette, clutching her tightly and crying into the small girl's neck.

Santana had been more shocked than anything when it happened, and it wasn't until she felt the young blonde squeeze her tightly that she became aware of the pain in her body, centering particularly on her skinned knees and scuffed palms.

Thin flaxen hair had temporarily blinded her as the distraught girl buried a wet nose into her neck. She'd patted the girl's back awkwardly before bringing her left hand up and spotting the dark red trail snaking down her wrist and forearm. The young blonde in her arms had been almost inconsolable when she saw the damage she'd done to the small brunette.

But Santana had felt strong in that moment. Holding the trembling girl who was mumbling things that sounded like "sorry" and "hero" and "bestest friend ever," she felt needed for the first time in her short life. It was a feeling Santana would spend the rest of her life chasing. And as she chased after it, it became clearer and clearer that it was only Brittany who could give it to her.

"You're the bravest person I know," Brittany said softly, pulling Santana from the memory. "I just wish you didn't have to keep hurting yourself to protect me." Bright blue eyes met Santana's and the dark-haired girl had to blink away, Brittany's soft touch and pleading stare proving too much for her to endure.

"That's okay, B," she whispered. "I'm always gonna protect you. I promised you that."

And Santana had promised. When they were kids and Brittany had been frightened by a thunderstorm, Santana had pedaled like a demon through the rain to get to her and tell her everything was going to be okay. She had sworn then to protect the blonde no matter the consequence. Her heart and safety were secondary to Brittany's.

It just took Santana a while to realize how completely Brittany's heart—and happiness and welfare—had wedded itself so directly to her own.

"But I'm not a kid anymore," the blonde said quietly, taking a long, slow breath before continuing. "And I can take care of myself."

Santana's stomach dropped a little at the assertion. She knew it was true of course. The woman sitting in front of her was all kinds of strong and far braver than Santana ever could be. Santana knew all this. She just didn't know how to be with Brittany any other way. She didn't know how she could make herself needed if it wasn't to safeguard and defend the beautiful dancer. And so she held onto that familiar responsibility as if her life depended on it.

"I know. I know, B," Santana replied, still unable to meet the blonde's eyes. "Doesn't mean I'm gonna stop trying though." She sat back with a thump, pulling her hands from Brittany's and wrapping them around her coffee cup. The hot liquid warmed her palms and she nervously scratched her thumbnail against the side, scraping off some of the waxy exterior and flicking it away.

"I don't want you to stop, San."

And there it was. That warm, addictive feeling of being needed that Santana pursued so fiercely. It bloomed in her chest, spreading through her body and causing a wide, unrestrained smile to stretch across her face. Without looking up, Santana could hear the wistful smile in Brittany's voice and picture the light curling of soft, pale-pink lips. She leaned into her cup, trying to mask the pleasure she received behind the plastic lid.

"We're not the same people were," Brittany continued, "but that doesn't mean we still don't need each other."

The brunette nodded, turning away from Brittany's stare. "I guess I don't know how to do things differently. I'm not good with change, B. You know that. I guess just don't know how to do this, to do _us_, now."

They sat in silence, neither knowing how to move forward but knowing that they couldn't sustain where they were. Santana chanced a glance at the blonde, meeting kind, hesitant blue eyes and a strained, tight-lipped smile. Her lips responded in kind, matching the dancer's cautious, unsure grin. She let her gaze wander over the girl, tracing the freckles across her cheeks over the bridge of her nose.

Brittany was beautiful, so beautiful it made Santana's heart ache to look at her at times. The girl could make her feel so many things all at once that sometimes Santana felt like her nerve-endings were on fire by the sheer presence of the dancer. She blinked her eyes away, turning to look out onto the street outside the café.

The sidewalks were mostly bare, a light rain falling and accumulating in small puddles on the concrete. Her attention was caught by a young couple holding hands and laughing as they jogged from awning to awning, trying to keep themselves dry. They paused outside the Lima Bean and the fellow grabbed his girl by the shoulders and kissed her hard. Santana eyed them wistfully, watching the ease of their interactions with envy, wondering if it would ever be that easy for her. For them.

"What," Santana started before clearing her throat, her voice scratchy from the silence she'd been sharing with Brittany. "What was it about him? Why'd you stay?"

"_Santana_," Brittany pleaded, rolling her head back in frustration.

"No, no," she said quickly, reaching out to grab the blonde's hand. "I'm not upset. I'm over it." At Brittany's raised eyebrow, she conceded, "I'm _getting_ over it. I just need to know. I need to know what it was that he had that I didn't."

Brittany sighed, squeezing Santana's hand before letting go and rubbing her eyes with her fingers. She had never been good with words and she didn't really know what to say that wouldn't hurt the girl further. "You always said that what we were doing wasn't dating. That it didn't really mean anything. Art-," she cut herself off, swallowing hard, "_he_ wanted to be with me and it felt good to be wanted."

Santana blinked back tears, nodding at the admission and bowing her head, unable to face the truth of what Brittany had said.

"It felt like I'd been chasing after you my whole life, and I didn't know if you'd ever want to be caught." The table rocked slightly as Brittany reached up to smooth away dark hair that had fallen around Santana's face. Her fingers ran over the edge of Santana's ear, sliding down to cup the girl's cheek and bring her head up.

"When we sang that song together," Santana finally raised her eyes to capture watery blue ones and Brittany smiled shyly, "when you sang to me, San, I was so, so happy." The blonde's voice was soft and reverent. "It was almost like a dream," she whispered. "I could barely believe it was happening. And then what you said later, it was more than I'd ever hoped for."

The dark-haired girl smiled painfully, running her hand up Brittany's and pulling it away to clutch on the tabletop. "But it wasn't enough," Santana stated sadly. It wasn't a question and the certainty in her voice made Brittany's chest hurt.

"That's not it at all. Baby, you should know by now that you're all I ever wanted. I love you, Santana, more than anything."

Santana blushed at the endearment and the sincerity in the girl's eyes, but she was still so unsure. "So why then?"

Brittany huffed, causing her bangs to ruffle before settling once again around her face. "I don't know. I still cared about him. He didn't do anything wrong, and," she shrugged, "I don't know. I didn't want to hurt him."

The brunette's eyes fluttered shut, squeezing tightly against the sting behind her eyes.

"I didn't want to hurt you either, San," Brittany reassured her quickly. "I didn't know what to do. I was scared. I didn't know if you'd change your mind and take it back and," she stopped momentarily, trying to find the words that would make Santana understand the conflicting feelings and uncertainty of that moment. "It seemed safer to stay with him. It was easy," she said quietly.

Santana felt her stomach clench. Wasn't that exactly what she kept saying about Landon? _It __was __easy_. She laughed bitterly to herself. Seems like Brittany didn't need her protection after all. She had done a bang up job protecting herself from Santana—something the dark-haired girl didn't realize she needed safeguarding from until it was too late.

"And…" the blonde trailed off, causing Santana to look up at the extended pause. The tall girl fiddled with her thumbs, biting her lower lip as she watched her fingers twirl around each other.

"And?" Santana questioned.

Brittany wasn't proud of what she was going to reveal, but this was a talk that had been a long time coming and she wanted to be completely honest. She didn't want anything left unsaid. "And it felt nice to be the one being chased for once. I had been running after you for _so_ long. I just … I just wanted to feel what it was like to be the one in control." Her head was downcast and she slumped low in her seat. She felt guilty at having let petty emotions guide her actions and ultimately hurting her best friend.

"You wanted me to chase you?" Santana asked and the dancer shrugged sullenly. "Brittany," she soothed. When the blonde didn't look up or respond, she moved her chair near and took a slender hand in her own. "Brittany, it's okay. I shouldn't have made you feel like what we did didn't matter. And it's okay to want to feel wanted. You deserve to feel like you matter cuz you do. A whole lot." Cautious blue eyes finally looked up to meet Santana's caring gaze. "It's my fault, B."

Brittany leaned her head on the smaller girl's shoulder and Santana followed by resting hers against the blonde's. "It's both our faults," Brittany whispered. "We hurt each other."

Santana exhaled slowly, tickling the dancer's cheek with her breath, and nodded.

After a moment, Brittany's soft voice broke the silence. "Why her?"

Santana sighed, turning her head into blonde hair for a moment, trying to understand for the both of them what made Landon so appealing that she'd been willing to jeopardize what they had to be with the jock. Like Brittany, she wanted to be honest and not give easy, practiced answers.

"She doesn't know me. She doesn't have expectations of who I am or who I could be. It wasn't complicated," she said softly, not realizing that she'd lapsed into the past tense with her last sentence. "And I didn't have to think about feelings or consequences because we never had a history. If it didn't work or if it ended badly, I didn't have anything to lose."

Brittany smiled sadly, understanding everything that was embedded in Santana's response, everything that the girl didn't say.

"When's it going to stop, B?" Brittany blinked up, trying to meet the girl's eyes without moving her head from her shoulder. "When are we going to stop hurting each other? Running from each other?"

That brought the blonde head up and she looked intently at Santana, searching for … _something_. "I guess when we choose to stop," she said quietly, exhaling slowly before pulling away and standing suddenly. "I'll wait for you Santana," she claimed, grabbing her sunglasses and car keys in one hand.

The graceful dancer leaned down, reaching a hand behind Santana's neck and pulling her close. She pressed a firm kiss to the side of the young girl's head, burying her nose in dark, silky locks and breathing in deeply. The rich, warm scent of the girl settled over her, her eyes fluttering close briefly. "But I won't wait forever." Her tone was soft but resolute. And before Santana could think of a response, she was gone.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, so, sorry this took so long to update! I hope it was worth it. All the ladies are working things out slowly but surely. It's not an easy fix, but they're progressing and there will be a resolution soon (I won't drag it out too long though). I'll be updating my other fic, "Roughnecks in Love," next, so there'll be a bit of a delay here. Please check that one out if you need something to tide you over. Thanks a bunch for all of the wonderful reviews. Keep 'em coming and let me know what you think! Good, bad, indifferent, it's all meaningful to me! :)**


	19. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer**: Not affiliated with the show in any way.

Chapter Eighteen

Landon was lying back against her favorite bench up high in the bleachers. She was beat. Bieste had moved her to quarterback and it felt like Coach was determined to run the young jock through the entire playbook in one afternoon. But Landon wasn't complaining. She loved the added responsibility and hard work. It was everything she ever wanted. On the football field.

She sighed and rubbed her hands across her face.

It would be her luck that just as she was getting everything she dreamed of in one area of her life, the other would be kicking her ass. She wasn't someone who dwelled on the things she couldn't have or those moments in her life that didn't work out, but still she couldn't help but feel just a little bit sorry for herself right then.

_Santana_. The girl drove her nuts. She seemed so open and interested in one instance and so closed and inaccessible in the next. Landon loved the fight in the girl, loved her strength and determination. But that didn't mean she wanted to war with the girl. The tall jock had fought enough in her life. She had to struggle enough to live day-to-day. She didn't want to battle with the girl she was dating too—if that was even what they were doing.

It was just so frustrating.

"Hey Landon," she heard softly spoken, causing her to blink her eyes open and squint against the blinding Lima sun. When her eyes were able to focus, she was surprised by the sight of a petite, hazel-eyed blonde, and she sat up quickly, pushing her hands against the bench to leverage herself up and resting her palms against the heated metal.

"Quinn?" she questioned, unsure if the young woman was an apparition or the fully human reality.

The new quarterback wasn't intimidated by much and there were few people who could make her nervous and unsure. Unfortunately, former head Cheerio Quinn Fabray was one of them.

Landon spent most of her time in glee quietly assessing the club members. And as she sat back and observed, she realized that most of them were there simply to be noticed, to have their existence recognized and to be part of _something_. They rushed to the spotlight, actually fought for it, just for the chance that someone, _anyone,_ would acknowledge that they mattered. Each of them in their own way needed validation that they weren't getting elsewhere. That's what brought them together.

And Landon found easy communion with them—even if they didn't realize it. The jock wasn't flashy. It wasn't necessarily her style to seek out the limelight vocally, she preferred to let her actions speak for her, but that didn't mean she didn't share their desire to be recognized or that she didn't already see herself as one of them.

But Quinn, Quinn never revealed much. Santana might like to think she held her emotions close to the vest and guarded herself well, but in Landon's mind she had nothing on the stoic blonde.

Landon had spent weeks trying to work out and make sense of Quinn from afar, but no matter how long she spent watching the girl, trying to decode her mannerisms and find patterns in her actions and reactions that might reveal _something_, Landon could never break the surface, could never see behind her casual indifference. It unnerved the jock. Quinn appeared so put together, so controlled and unaffected that Landon felt judged and dismissed all at once.

But what unsettled her even more was that over the past few days when she'd be trying to figure Quinn out, she'd catch the reserved blonde's inquisitive gaze trying to dissect her too. Those unreadable hazel eyes made Landon anxious, and every time they met by chance, Landon was the first to turn away, unable to hold the small girl's penetrating gaze.

Having the slender girl actually approach her outside of glee made the jock's palms sweat and she brushed them against her shorts nervously.

Quinn tucked her simple sundress under her butt and sat down on the bench directly below the jock, clasping her hands between her knees and leaning forward, eyes scanning the now empty field. She swung her head to the side to give Landon a half-smile before settling her gaze on the football field once again.

"You come here a lot," Quinn declared, surprising Landon with the certainty of the statement. "I've been watching you."

Landon coughed slightly, trying to mask her choking by clearing her throat. "Yea, um, I got practice and all."

"No, like, you don't come here just for practice. You … relax here." She shrugged. "You get centered here."

"Uh, yea. It's just familiar, I guess. I know what to expect here, out there," she gestured to the field and shrugged.

Quinn crossed her legs, bringing her arms around and clasping her hands over her knees. "I get that," she replied.

They sat in silence, Quinn calm stillness causing Landon to fidget and grow increasingly tense. "Um, so what brings _you_ out here?" she asked when she could no longer stand the quiet.

"I've been watching you," Quinn repeated. "And I've been trying to figure out your angle, what game you're playing." She paused. It was a beautiful, sunny day and Quinn took a moment to watch the fluffy white clouds float on by.

"The more I've watched you though," she said quietly, continuing to stare out into the distance, "the more I'm beginning to think you're not actually in a game, at least not in any the rest of us are playing." She shifted and recrossed her legs. "I don't get you. And that makes me nervous."

Landon snorted at the admission, finding the notion that _she _made _Quinn _nervous absurd.

"So what brings you out here?" Landon repeated quietly.

The small blonde swung her eyes up, taking hold of Landon's and making the jock shift subtly under the scrutiny. It took all of Landon's self-discipline not to blink away. Quinn quirked the corner of her lips up in a half grin, recognizing the jock's attempt to hold her stare. She took a deep breath and shrugged. "I wanted to apologize."

Landon squinted in confusion, brushing her fingertips across her eyebrows. "For what?"

"I haven't really been fair to you. I'm not," she swallowed slowly and licked her lips, "I'm not a very trusting person. And I haven't really given you a fair chance."

For the first time ever, Landon saw the girl fidget, fiddling with her fingers awkwardly but maintaining eye contact with the jock. The atypical movements actually calmed Landon and helped settle her own nerves. Quinn was human after all, and she probably felt just as vulnerable as they all did. Maybe even more so seeing as how tightly wound she was most of the time.

"Instead of actually talking to you," Quinn continued, "I made my own assumptions and that wasn't right. You don't deserve that." She paused, finally flicking her eyes away. "Guess no one does."

The fact that Quinn dropped her gaze first wasn't lost on Landon and she gave herself a mental pat on the back for having finally matched the young woman's stare. But the soft confession tempered her gloating.

Despite how uncomfortable it all felt, sitting in the bleachers with a girl who had barely said two sentences to her all year, Landon was intrigued. She didn't quite get why Quinn sought her out or what her admissions actually meant, but she found herself wanting to know more. There was something incredibly mysterious about the blonde and Landon didn't want to waste the opportunity to try to break through the formidable façade she maintained.

"Hey," Landon called out. "You wanna get outta here?"

Bright hazel eyes sparkled up at her. "Yea. I do."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

The soft buzzing of her phone pulled Brittany's attention away from the maroon smoking jacket she was currently sewing for LT. Sure, she didn't condone the overweight cat's renewed habit, but the nights were getting colder and she didn't want him catching cold since he was forced outside whenever he wanted to light up. She also didn't want him feeling self-conscious and thought a boss smoking jacket would help boost his rep and confidence.

She dropped the jacket in her lap and picked up her phone, reading the text quickly.

**Going for a run. Wanna join?**

She grinned a little, taking a quick glance out her window to check the weather. Noting the clear, sunny sky, she typed back quickly.

**Thru the park?**

She'd barely released her phone when it buzzed again. **Duh! Where else?**

Brittany smiled brightly, sending out a reply and lacing up her sneakers. A long, mind-clearing run was just what she needed.

**See ya in 10**

The park was only a couple blocks from her house and Brittany wasn't surprised to see that she was the first to arrive. She had just completed a set of hamstring stretches when she saw the tall, buffed out boy jogging towards her.

"Hey, Mikey! Took you long enough," she teased, cuffing him on the shoulder.

"Ha ha, very funny," Mike joshed back. "I've already jogged two miles so you better be ready to work it hard, Cinderella."

Brittany swung her leg up and bopped him on the rear with her foot.

"Ready enough to kick your butt, Chien-Po," she replied cheekily.

"I told you not you call me that," Mike whined, his shoulders dropping and his bottom lip puffing out in a pout.

"Aw, poor baby," she mocked, patting him playfully on the cheek. "That's okay. We'll work off those extra pounds in no time," she said before sprinting away from the boy's long arms.

"Oh you're so gonna get it!"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Landon and Quinn ended up in the food court of the local mall. The small blonde watched with wide eyes and a slack jaw as the jock consumed two double cheeseburgers and an enormous basket of fries.

She was in the middle of sucking down her large strawberry milkshake when she noticed Quinn's incredulous stare. "Um," she swallowed her current mouthful before wiping the back of her hand across her lips. "Your food okay?" she asked, gesturing to the untouched plate of onion rings on the table in front of the blonde.

Quinn shrugged, grabbing her diet Coke and taking a small sip. "I don't know why I got them, really?" She glanced down at her food and chuckled, shaking her head a little in chagrin. "It's not something I should be eating."

"Why not?" Landon asked, shoving another handful of fries in her mouth, her strong jaw moving in big, deliberate circles.

Quinn smiled at the jock's earnest curiosity. "Not all of us can eat like you and still look like that," she laughed, waving a hand towards the girl's lean body.

"Please," Landon scoffed. "You're like super tiny. If anything," she took another large swallow of her milkshake, "you need to put on a few pounds. Like," she cocked her head to the side and eyed Quinn thoughtfully, "ten pounds."

The young blonde sat back, horrified at the thought. "You're crazy!"

"No," Landon replied softly, stirring her milkshake by jiggling the top of her straw before glancing up, "I'm not." She sat back, pulling her drink with her, and locked her gold-green eyes with Quinn's.

She sucked on her cheek for a second, considering her next words carefully. "Everyone's chasing some air-brushed, lipo-sucked ideal, but it's all bullshit. You shouldn't let what other people think make your decisions for you," she said, pointing her straw at the girl. "You're like a total hottie and one basket of onion rings ain't gonna change that." Landon sat up straight and leaned back over the table. "So fuck what everyone else thinks and let's just hit these before they get soggy as shit," she encouraged playfully.

The quarterback reached out and snagged a golden brown onion ring, bringing it up between them. Her smile was so wide and bright that Quinn couldn't help but get caught in its wake and she found herself returning the grin effortlessly.

"Come on," Landon teased, waving the crispy treat under Quinn's nose. "You know you want to."

Quinn eyed the onion ring, smirking at Landon's attempt to look suave and alluring. The upturned eyebrow and twinkling eyes trying to entice her with a greasy, deep-fried ring and a toothy smile just made the jock look incredibly goofy, and Quinn was charmed, giggling uncharacteristically at the girl's antics.

She stretched her slender fingers out slowly, holding Landon's gaze and pulling the onion ring from her fingertips.

"You're totally gonna be a bad influence. I can tell already."

Landon winked, bringing her own salty fingers to her lips and sucking lightly. "Totally," she replied.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Brittany and Mike had been running quietly for a good 30 minutes and Brittany was just beginning to feel her body relax into the movement and rhythm of their steps. Her breaths came out in a steady tempo that felt like music pulsing itself through her body. She pumped her legs to the consistent beat.

She was focused so intently on the movements of her body that the sound of Mike's voice caused her to stumble briefly before righting herself and finding her rhythm once again.

"What?" she asked, having missed the initial question.

"Just asking how you're doing is all. Everything okay with you, B?"

Brittany narrowed her eyes, her breathing losing the newly-established pattern. She considered Mike a good friend, but their relationship focused primarily on their athletic interests. They didn't ... _talk _or get into anything emotional like she wasn't a suspicious person by nature, she couldn't help but wonder at his sudden interest.

"What do you mean?" she inquired tentatively, deciding to see what Mike wanted rather than draw her own conclusions.

"Dunno. Just asking," he said, keeping his eyes on the path ahead. "You just seem, I don't know, depressed or something. And, like, I care about you and all that," he mumbled quickly, increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation he was starting.

_Damn Tina_, he thought. He'd do just about anything for his girlfriend and when she'd come to him, sniffling over how sad Britt looked and begging him to talk to her, he just couldn't say no. He had a pretty good idea of what was troubling the blonde, but as he found himself trying to start the discussion, he couldn't help but feel incredibly awkward.

At this point, he hoped Brittany would take pity on him and just admit what was wrong so he could help her fix things and everything could go back to normal. But the girl's hesitance suggested that he wasn't going to be that lucky and this wasn't going to be easy.

Brittany pursed her lips, her nostrils flaring with the force of oxygen leaving her lungs. "I'm good," she huffed between heavy breaths. She increased her speed by half a step, hoping the new pace would distract Mike enough that he'd drop his questioning. It wasn't that she didn't want to have a closer relationship with the boy; she just wasn't sure _now _was the time to do it. Her life had become extremely complicated of late and talking about it would involve exposing things about more than just herself. She wasn't sure she was ready to commit to all of that.

"Come on, B. I know we don't normally like talk and stuff, but you're starting to worry me. You've been really quiet lately and ..." Mike swallowed and sucked in deep breaths. "I know things are ... weird with you and Santana right now and it might help to, you know, talk about it or whatever."

Brittany's steps faltered again at the mention of the girl's name, the tip of her sneaker catching on the dirt path, causing her to lurch forward briefly. "I don't know what you mean," she brushed off, annoyed with her inability to run and talk at the same time. She took a quick glance at her companion before turning away.

Brittany's discomfort was palpable and Mike wasn't sure how much to push. He really did care about the girl and he'd seen her become more and more withdrawn as she and Santana seemed to drift further and further apart. For all its awkwardness, he really did want to help. He just needed to get her to open up first.

"It's okay, you know," he started cautiously. "You don't have to hide from me, from anyone in glee really."

Brittany slowed her stride until she pulled them to a full stop. She brought her hands to her hips and stretched her back out, leaning back and thrusting her face towards the sun. She squeezed her eyes shut, the corners bunching and creasing with the strain. Her lungs expanded as she inhaled and exhaled deeply.

"I know that," she said quietly after a settling some. "I ... it's just really complicated and … things are just messed up."

"So let's talk about it." Mike shrugged, trying to be supportive and practical at the same time. Once he knew what the actual issue was, he could then devise a plan to make things better. He sincerely believed that any problem could be solved through rational, objective, reasoned consideration, and he was anxious to get to work. Although he was supremely uncomfortable broaching these subjects, he hated how frickin' sad the dancer had been over the past few weeks. "Sometimes things feel really confusing or overwhelming when they're in our heads. Just talking it out might help."

Brittany bit her lip, feeling the sting of tears welling up. She wiggled her nose, trying to relieve the itch and prevent herself from sniffling.

"Hey," Mike said quietly, reaching out and stroking the young girl's arm. "I know about you and Santana, okay? You don't have to pretend nothing's going on cuz clearly something is. Just tell me what happened and how I can help."

He was so sweet—trying to swoop in and save the day. Brittany wrapped her long arms around his shoulders and hugged him closely. Part of her wanted so much to confide in him, to hand over the weight of all that was happening and have him make it better.

But she knew that wasn't possible.

"Thanks Mikey," she whispered, still holding on tightly, "but there's nothing anyone can do."

Mike gave her a last, body-bruising squeeze before stepping back and taking Brittany by the shoulders. "Oh come on, now," he encouraged, trying to remain upbeat. "There's always _something_ that can be done."

The tall blonde shook her head, breaking away from Mike's kind eyes. "Look, can we just get back to running," she begged.

Rather than become frustrated or disheartened, however, Mike just smiled. "Okay," he agreed. "We can run _while_ you tell me what happened." He shook her shoulders gently and grabbed her hand, pulling her into a slow jog. "Let's go."

The determined young man waited until they developed an easy rhythm before starting up again, both teenagers fit enough to converse as they jogged. "So what happened with you and Santana? You guys have a fight about something?"

Brittany sighed. "Not really. I mean, _yea_, but," she paused. What could she say, really? "I let her go. And I don't know what we are anymore."

"You talkin' about Landon?" At Brittany's quick, steely glare, Mike chuckled. "Yea, it's pretty obvious you don't like the girl. At first I didn't get it. Like I'd never seen you dislike _anyone_ and then you sang that Adele song with her and it all made sense."

The scowl on the blonde's face made him smirk, the look was so uncommon, so unnatural-looking that it came across more comical than menacing. He couldn't help but find it endearing.

"So you let her go?" he asked. "What does that mean exactly? You like just gave up on her?"

"No," Brittany said, shaking her head. "I just … I wasn't ready when she was, then she wasn't ready when I was and then ..."

"Landon," Mike said simply, glancing over and seeing the blonde nod. "So what are you doing about it?"

"I don't … I don't know what you mean."

"So you're like just gonna let Landon come in and take your girl, no fight at all?"

Bright blue eyes narrowed at the question and she ground her teeth. "I don't really have much of a choice," she growled. "It's not like I can control what Santana does."

"Oh that's a bunch of BS. That girl would crawl over a field of broken glass on her hands and knees if you needed her. She might be too clueless or stubborn or scared or whatever right now, but you've got her wrapped around your little finger. You just gotta figure out how to use it. So if you want her, do something about it."

"She knows how I feel. What else can I do?" Brittany exclaimed, throwing her arms up in frustration, her voice rising as she became more agitated.

"Okay, okay," Mike backed off some. They ran in silence for a few minutes, the athletic boy trying to come up with plan to help Brittany get her lady. "So what are you doing tonight?"

Brittany looked back at him, a little confused at the abrupt change in topic.

"I dunno. I don't have plans or anything. Wanna hang out?"

"Nope," he said with a wide grin. "_You_ are gonna ask Santana _and Landon_ out to dinner."

"What? No way!" Brittany practically shouted. "I don't want to see them together being all … coupley." She shuddered at the thought.

"No, listen to me. You're gonna ask them to dinner and spend time with the two of them. They won't be all over each other, trust me. Santana wouldn't do that to you. So you're gonna hang out with them and just be your normal self and do what you always do with Santana." At Brittany's raised eyebrow and playful smirk he smiled. "Not that!" he joked. "Just be her friend and act like you always do together."

"O-kay," she drawled out hesitantly. "Why?"

"Look, Britt, I've never seen two people more in tune with each other than you and Santana. It's like you share a brain or something."

"Is that a dumb joke?"

He shook his head and smiled affectionately at her. "No, I'm just saying that you guys have something special and anyone around you two can see that. Now's not the time to start backing off."

Brittany nodded, keeping her strides long and steady. "What about Landon?" she asked softly.

"What about her?" he shrugged. "Hey, I got nothing against the girl. She's great and all that, but she isn't you. And I'm not suggesting you, I don't know, do anything bad or dishonest to break them up or anything. Just be yourself. Be her friend. You gotta pretend to be okay with her and Landon and try to get along with both of them. See," he took a couple of breaths before continuing, "she's gotta see y'all together. See you and Landon side-by-side and figure out what she really wants from there. Cuz Britt," he looked over at her quickly, "there is no comparison. It's you. It's always been you and you gotta believe that."

They rounded a bend and started to decrease their pace, having lapped the expansive park several times already. Brittany focused on slowing her heart rate and regulating her breathing. But as her body was cooling down and resettling, her mind was racing. She wasn't sure she was ready to see Landon and Santana together but maybe Mike was right. It wasn't like she could avoid the pair forever anyway. Santana was still her best friend and she missed the girl like crazy. She wanted to be with her, even if it was just to hang out.

Before she could get any deeper into her thoughts, she felt a warm, slightly damp hand on her shoulder.

"Don't give up, B." Mike said, squeezing her shoulder gently. "If you really do love her, show her. Show her that you're still there for her and she'll come around. Trust me."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

After finishing their snack in the food court, the two teenagers took a casual stroll through the mall, peeking in store windows and trying to avoid the rush of rowdy kids and their stressed out mothers that seemed to have invaded the shopping center all at once.

"So," Quinn started, breaking the comfortable silence that had developed between them. She stopped in front of an electronics store with little motorized cars zipping around in the window. "Why Santana?" she asked, her eyes following the circuitous path of a powder blue Mini Cooper. She could feel the jock stiffen next to her but didn't turn away from the window.

_Great_, Landon thought. _Here it comes_. The jock was actually quite surprised that it had taken this long. She was sure that Quinn had come down to the football field to lay into her about Santana, and Landon had steeled herself against the attack then. But the longer they spent together without the blonde bringing it up, the more relaxed Landon became and she let herself believe Quinn's unexpected interest in her was innocent, motivated by simple curiosity.

But now she felt like a fool, and her embarrassment at letting herself be snowed so easily quickly turned into anger and defensiveness. She clenched her jaw and straightened up, squaring her shoulders and standing tall. If she was going to get reamed out, she was gonna say her piece first.

"Look, I know I'm the outsider here and there's no reason for anyone to trust me. But I'm not doing anything wrong. And if _any _of you had made any kind of effort to get to know me first, you'd know that I'm not a bad person. I'm just trying to figure out my shit just like everyone else and if I knew I was breaking some sacred covenant between Santana and Saint _fucking_ Brittany maybe I would've done things differently. But I _didn't_ know and I'm sick of everyone trying to pin whatever's happening between _them_ on me. It's their fucking baggage. Not mine." She slapped herself in the chest to emphasize her point, her breathing coming out in rough, heavy bursts and her eyes sharp and narrow.

"Whoa," Quinn called out, turning from the window-scape and grabbing the jock's arm. She met angry, glittering gold eyes with a firm, unwavering gaze of her own. "Calm down. I just asked why you liked Santana. I wasn't accusing you of anything."

Landon scoffed, leaning back on her back foot and crossing her arms. "Right," she said sarcastically. "So why'd you want to know then?"

Quinn exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair and ruffling the thick, blonde locks. She pulled Landon's arm and led them to a nearby bench. The teens took seats next to each other, Quinn crossing her legs and fixing the hem of her dress and Landon slumping down with her long legs stretched out haphazardly.

"Look," Quinn started, her voice calm and placating. "I told you I know I haven't given you a fair shake. I'm just trying to make up for that, okay? I just wanted to talk you, you know, get to know you better. Honestly, besides glee, the only things I know about you are that you play football," she ticked off on one finger, "and that you and Santana are … close," she counted off again. "And quite frankly, there's only one thing I know about football. You guys like to grab each other's butts. A lot."

Landon stuffed her hands in the pockets of her shorts, fighting off a grin. She huffed a little, not ready to give up her anger entirely but recognizing that she'd overreacted. She turned away and bit her lip.

"So, yes," Quinn continued, "I'm curious about you and Santana, and, _okay_, maybe it's not _just_ because she's someone we both know. But I promise it's not because I think you've done anything wrong." She paused to take a long, deep breath. "I'm just curious. About you. And so I'm talking _to_ you rather than drawing my own conclusions. That's a good thing," she insisted, speaking the last sentence slowly and nodding to emphasize her statement.

The jock ducked her head, her anger slowly bleeding out. She rarely blushed and when she did, it wasn't often noticeable due to her dark complexion, but she was sure that her embarrassment shone clear on her face. She hated losing it like that. It made her feel immature and reckless, too much like her father and the last thing she ever wanted to be compared to was her old man.

A soft chuckle caused her to raise her eyes and catch Quinn smirking at her, her pale pink lips pinched together, struggling to keep from breaking out into a full-fledged smile. Landon cocked her head to the side and raised a dark eyebrow at the blonde.

"You really got some repressed emotions there, huh?" Quinn chuckled.

The quarterback's jaw dropped and her eyes went wide. "_I've _got repressed emotions?" she asked in disbelief, stunned that Quinn of all people was calling _her_ out for being closed off. "You practically buzz you got so much you're trying to hold in. I keep wondering when the fucking steam's gonna burst from your ears."

To Landon's surprise, Quinn smiled brightly and snickered. Hazel eyes sparkled with delight as she reached over and clutched Landon's forearm, squeezing gently. The jock sat back, shocked at the blonde's reaction, but the sweet, lilting sound of her laughter was infectious and she quickly found herself pulled in and laughing right along with her.

Everything was just too much and as Landon fell into hysterics at the ridiculousness of it all, she suddenly felt lighter. The emotional release was liberating, energizing, and all the drama she was mixed up in just felt like so much bullshit that she felt silly for making such a big deal out it.

Once her laughter subsided, she took a deep, cleansing breath and grinned, taking in Quinn's shimmering eyes and rose-colored cheeks.

"Okay, okay," Quinn conceded after pulling herself together, "maybe we've all got emotional stuff we're keeping in. But you gotta admit, you kinda wigged out there."

It was true. Landon had been on edge ever since Puck's party and she'd dumped all of her frustration and irritation on Quinn.

"I get that we haven't exactly welcomed you with open arms," Quinn continued. "We're just worried about Brittany," she paused and grinned, "and Santana too, as much as she might think otherwise. But that's not why I'm here now. I'm not trying to tell you what do you or blame you for anything, I promise."

Landon looked into Quinn's eyes and believed her.

"You two just seem like an unusual fit." Quinn nudged Landon on the shoulder with her own. "And I was just wondering what it was about _Santana_ that attracted you. She's not exactly the easiest person to get along with."

Landon chuckled at that. The dark-haired girl was certainly … prickly at times, but that just made her all the more interesting. "I don't know," she shrugged. "She's got all these walls, right? And they're like super thick, almost impenetrable. You figure she spends all this time and energy creating these defensive barriers that there's gotta be something fucking amazing she's trying to protect. That whatever's in there, whatever she's guarding is so …" she paused, her voice drifting off and her eyes becoming distant.

Quinn was transfixed by the look, watching Landon stare at nothing but somehow _seeing_ Santana perhaps more than any of them did. She saw the jock shake her head and sit back, running her hands over her face briefly.

"I don't know," Landon said. "You figure whatever's in there's gotta be something beautiful and powerful and so fucking fragile that's why she's gotta lock it up so tight to keep it safe."

"Or it could be something really dangerous instead," Quinn interjected.

Gold eyes flicked up, narrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Quinn's voice was quiet but sure. "There are a lot of reasons to build walls, Landon. You can build them to protect something precious. Or you can build them to keep something dangerous in, something you don't want to unleash for fear of the damage it could do."

Landon eyed Quinn thoughtfully. "So why'd you build yours?" she asked.

The question hung in the air, and Landon was sure Quinn intended to ignore it completely. But just as she was determining whether or not she should apologize, Quinn's soft voice broke through the silence.

"I don't really know half the time," she whispered. "I don't know whether I'm trying to keep something from getting out or if I'm trying to stop something from getting in." She glanced up and Landon smiled softly, the corner of her lips only barely turning up and dimpling a single cheek.

"But we're not talking about me," she insisted, turning away and smoothing her hands against the silky fabric of her dress. Quinn reached over and patted the quarterback on the arm. "We were talking about you and Santana. So tell me, what else is it?"

Landon decided to let her off the hook for now, hoping this heart-to-heart wouldn't be a one time thing and electing to open up to the girl in good faith. "I dunno. Like, she's super confident and badass one moment and a total fucking mess the next." They exchanged knowing smiles at the description. "She's complicated. A challenge. She makes you work for her affection. I want to be with someone who knows that they're worth the effort. Although," she conceded, "I'm not so sure that's the reason she makes it so difficult to know her."

Quinn looked at her, her brows scrunched, puzzled by the jock's explanation.

"What?" Landon asked after a few seconds with no response.

"So love for you means is a challenge, something complicated and demanding that you have to constantly fight for or with?"

"Well, no."

"But, you _like_ how … difficult it is with Santana?" she interrupted. "Always having to fight for her attention?"

Despite the noise from energetic shoppers and boisterous teens milling around them, a quiet stillness settled around the pair. Landon chose to scan the crowd instead of meeting Quinn's eyes, wondering what it meant that she seemed to seek out conflict in her love affairs.

"Don't you ever get tired, Landon?" Quinn asked.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

**You and Landon wanna hit up Stix later?**

Santana had to read the text three times before she felt confident that she was indeed seeing what she thought she was seeing and that it meant what she thought it meant. Long eyelashes fluttered as she blinked at the glowing screen.

Brittany had just invited her and Landon to dinner.

At least that's what her phone seemed to be telling her, but surely that couldn't be the case, right? There had to be some weird autocorrect thing happening. Maybe she meant "You lazy ass" and transposed the order of the words. Or maybe she was feeling a little cheeky and meant "You and your luscious legs" or "You and your lady bits", simply omitting particular words and having others transformed by the capricious little widget that lived in the mobile and loved to screw with texts so the sender ended up sounding like an idiot.

She decided to reply innocuously and see what Brittany said in response.

**Me and Landon? What time?**

_Smooth_, she thought proudly, nodding to herself.

**Yea. 8?**

_Huh?_ Santana mused. Brittany wanted to get together. With her. And Landon. The whole thing felt a little off, but nothing about Brittany was shady and so Santana had to take it at face value.

It was just another thing that illustrated just how exceptional the beautiful blonde was. Brittany never ceased to amaze her. She had such a caring heart and a seemingly endless supply of love and compassion. The girl could lay down snark with the best of them but at bottom, she was an affectionate, generous spirit and it stunned Santana, stole her fucking breath, every time those soulful blue eyes fell on her and looked so adoringly at her.

How she ever took it for granted still mystified her. She was an idiot. That had to be the only answer. She was an idiot, too blind to see what was right in front of her. Too scared, and blind, and so fucking stupid.

She adored the blonde. She knew it. Everyone within ten feet of them could see it. Why did she work so hard to try and hide or deny it?

Santana looked down at the phone weighing heavily in her hand. The whole proposition made her nervous. She wasn't sure she could handle being with Landon and Brittany together, particularly now that they were looking to her to make some kind of grand declaration. It would be supremely uncomfortable she was sure.

But Santana knew that if _she_ was uncomfortable, Brittany was going to be far more so and yet she extended the invitation anyway. The girl was just amazing, and Santana made the decision then and there that she was going to start earning Brittany's devotion. Regardless of whether they would become lovers ever again, Santana was going to make herself worthy of the blonde's affection. She had taken her for granted long enough.

With this new conviction, Santana sent a quick text to Landon and started going through her closet, searching for the perfect outfit. She wanted to dress up for her girl—well, girls—and pull out all the stops.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Landon considered Quinn's words. She _was_ tired. Exhausted even. It was physically and mentally draining trying to be hero and mentor and God knows what else she needed to be for everyone in her life. She tried so hard to be steady and reliable, to take care of her family and those she loved and still try to make something of herself, still fulfill her own dreams and desires.

But she was worn out and so fucking weary.

Her pocket buzzed, startling her, and she couldn't have been more thankful for the distraction.

**B wants to have dinner with us. 8 at Stix. You in?**

Her brows furrowed in confusion.

"What's up?" Quinn asked, noting the puzzled look on the jock's face.

"I'm not sure. You know anyone who goes by B?"

"B?" Quinn tried to clarify.

"Yea."

"Seriously?" she asked, her brow arching at the obvious. "Um, _Brittany_."

"Nah, can't be her," Landon dismissed. Her thumbs typed out a quick message back.

**Who's B?**

**Brittany**

**Brittany what?**

**Brittany wants to go to dinner**

**With you?**

**With us**

**What?**

Quinn was thoroughly enjoying the show. Every vibration that signaled a new text caused Landon's face to twitch and bunch and morph into odd, confounded expressions. It was quite comical.

As they sat and anticipated another text, they were both surprised by Landon's phone ringing. Quinn leaned back and turned her head, trying to give her as much space and privacy as the small bench would allow.

"Hey," Landon said, recognizing that it was Santana from the caller id.

"What's your problem? Are you trying to be intentionally dense?" Santana's normally throaty, seductive voice sounded thin and shrill through the weak connection, making Landon smirk at the unusual tenor. It almost sounded like the dark-haired girl had sucked helium before making the call.

"I'm just trying to figure out what's going on, yo," Landon replied, still royally confused at the whole text-message exchange.

"You wanna go to dinner or not? This ain't the SATs."

"Well, who's asking?"

"Jesus-fucking-Christ, Shariff! _Brittany_ wants to know if _you_ and _me_ wanna get something to eat," Santana said, enunciating each word slowly. "You in or not?" Her exasperation rang clear even through the shoddy connection, but that didn't make the request any clearer.

"Chill out, Lopez," Landon said with a grin. "So, Brittany-Brittany, _your Brittany_, wants to get dinner with you _and me_?" She chuckled to herself. "Are you gonna taste my food for me first?" she joked, imagining the sneaky blonde lacing her meal with hot sauce or laxatives or other unsavory elements that might make her sick or embarrass her somehow. Seconds ticked by with no response and Landon shifted uncomfortably. "Hello?"

"Look, you wanna go or not?"

The jock slouched down and kicked her legs out. She glanced over at Quinn who she was pretty sure had been following their entire exchange even though she tried not to. Quinn slapped her thigh and mouthed "go," causing Landon to roll her eyes and sigh. "Um, yea, I guess. You want me to pick you up or meet at Stix?"

"I'll meet ya there. Eight o'clock. Don't be late."

"Okay, I got it," she replied. "Later Lopez." She flipped the phone closed and turned to Quinn. "Well, that was weird. Why would Brittany want to have dinner with Santana _and me_? That's weird, right?"

Quinn smiled and shook her head. "Not if you know B. She's a bit of a free spirit, loves and forgives easily."

Landon let out a bitter little laugh. "Right. That's what I keep hearing, but I gotta tell you I ain't seen it yet. That girl hates me."

"She doesn't hate you," Quinn dismissed easily. Skeptical gold-green eyes found hers and she smiled at the jock's mistrust. "She _doesn't_ hate you. Trust me."

Landon took a deep breath. Dinner. With Santana and Brittany. It seemed surreal and the longer she thought about it, the more agitated she became. "Hey," she said suddenly, sitting up quickly and smiling excitedly at Quinn. "You wanna come with? I'm sure they won't mind."

Quinn threw her head back and laughed. "As much as I'd _love_ to be there and get a front row seat for this potential train wreck, I can't. But I'd love to get the play-by-play later. Here," she grabbed Landon's phone and programmed her number in it. "Give me a call sometime if you, you know, ever want to talk or whatever." She shrugged nonchalantly and handed back the mobile. "Come on," she stood and reached out a hand to Landon. "You've gotta go and get ready for your 'date'." Quinn smirked at Landon's long, dramatic groan, pulling the tall girl up from the bench.

"Ugh. What am I doing?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I know, I know. I'm a terrible updater! You guys are champs and I hope I haven't lost your interest with the infrequent updates and the maybe too slow pace. I also hope you enjoyed the chapter and everything made sense and felt natural. Not sure how I feel about it actually. I have to admit that it was a nice change of pace writing for other characters and establishing friendships old and new, but some of it felt stilted. Oh well. I totally value all your reviews, good and bad, so please keep them coming. I'm going to focus on the next chapter for this story since I've neglected it for so long. But if you have some extra time, please consider my other story "Roughnecks in Love." Although it's AU, the whole gang's there and it's much lighter (so far!) than this one. Thanks again! **


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Brittany made sure to arrive at Breadstix a little early. She was nervous and didn't want to come in to Landon and Santana making out or anything gross like that. Although Mike assured her that Santana wouldn't do anything in front of her, she was still a little wary of seeing them as a couple. From what Santana had said, the two of them had been dating for a little while before she told her and Brittany hadn't really noticed, but now that it was out, so to speak, the nervous blonde wasn't sure if that might change.

She slid into a booth and checked her watch. It was still about five minutes before eight and Brittany knew that Santana wouldn't be early. Suddenly the thought of Landon getting there without the dark-haired girl invaded her mind and she fidgeted anxiously.

Brittany hadn't quite thought this whole arriving early thing through and now she was starting to sweat. What would they talk about if it was just the two of them? The quarterback was just so … _different_. She didn't seem to be interested in anything that the young blonde was into. Sure, they had dance, but there was only so much to discuss there. Maybe they could talk about music videos or something.

Her leg began to bounce nervously under the table. If the jock did show up alone, she wanted to make sure to keep the conversation far away from the one topic she knew for certain they both shared an interest in. Santana. The dancer didn't think they'd survive the night if she had to hear about Santana from _her_. If she had to sit there and listen to the jock recount whatever it was she and Santana did, acting as if she knew the normally guarded girl better than Brittany did, well, she wasn't sure she could keep her emotions and actions under control. Violence wasn't something the blonde was prone to but Landon just brought out the beast in her. She would do her best to get along with her for Santana's sake, but that would require careful maneuvering.

The anticipation of what was to come caused her tummy to rumble and she chewed on her thumbnail apprehensively. She started making a mental list of possible conversation starters, each so innocuous and, well, boring she was sure they wouldn't result in bloodshed. Well, she hoped anyway.

Brittany needn't have worried, however. As she went over the possible scenarios of being left alone with Landon in her head, each scene getting progressively more awkward and torturous as they played out in her mind, the jock sat idly in her truck, tapping nervous fingers against the wheel, an old AC/DC song blaring through the aging speakers. She'd been sitting there a good ten minutes and still couldn't make herself move.

Although she hadn't seen the blonde arrive, she still didn't want to risk running into her without Santana present. "Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap" rang out through the tiny cab of the pickup, rattling the windows and causing Landon to bob her head to the familiar tune.

_You got a lady and you want her gone  
>But you ain't got the guts<br>She keeps naggin' at you night 'n' day  
>Enough to drive you nuts<br>Pick up the phone, leave her alone  
>It's time you made a stand<br>For a fee, I'm happy to be  
>Your back door man, hey<em>

Landon shook her head and smirked. Okay, so maybe the macabre lyrics weren't creating the best frame of mind for the dinner ahead. She blew out a long, steadying breath. Strong hands squeezed the steering wheel tightly, the old, worn leather creaking under her palms. She wasn't sure what she was waiting for exactly, but she knew that, for whatever reason, she wasn't ready.

_Dirty deeds done dirt cheap  
>Dirty deeds done dirt cheap<br>Dirty deeds done dirt cheap_

The heavy bass and ripping drums pulsed through the quarterback's body and she tried to use the energy to pump herself up. Her head thumped to the beat. She didn't know why she was so nervous. To say that the jock was scared of Brittany wasn't quite right. Landon didn't _fear_ the blonde; she was just suspicious and a bit mistrustful.

And it didn't help that she was still so unsure about where she stood with Santana. She knew Santana had met with the blonde to _talk_ the day after Puck's party, but Santana hadn't shared what went down. In fact, the dark-haired girl hadn't sought the jock out at all, and Landon hated feeling so insecure.

As the song died down and some Guns N' Roses came on, Landon caught sight of the curvaceous brunette she would be dining with walking up to the Breadstix entrance. The jock gave the wheel one last squeeze before running her hands over her jeans-covered thighs and turning the radio off. She gave herself a quick little pep talk and took another minute to settle her nerves, then, with a deep breath, she pushed out of the pickup and made the short trek up to the restaurant.

Brittany glanced up at the chime on the door, thankful for the distraction. If she kept up with her worrying, all her fingernails would be bitten down to jagged little nubs. She exhaled in relief, seeing Santana arrive alone, but the breath she released caught in her throat and she found herself gasping for air. Santana was stunning, and the worry and uneasiness that had settled in Brittany's belly transformed into pleasant little butterflies of anticipation and a deep, throbbing pull of attraction that always seemed to surface when the brunette was near.

The young brunette wore a tight black dress with short cap sleeves and a low neckline. Her long, raven locks were curled lightly with one side pinned up neatly, allowing the soft waves to frame her lightly done up face. Santana hadn't caught sight of Brittany and the blonde smiled wistfully, leaning her cheek against her fist, her elbow resting on the table. The dark-haired girl had pulled out all the stops and Brittany was determined to soak it all in, knowing with absolute certainty that even if Landon was joining them, Santana had also dressed up for her.

Santana removed her coat and slung it over her arm as she waited by the hostess stand. She scrunched her forehead in irritation, pursing her lips and chewing on the inside of her cheek lightly. The older woman who normally manned the station was nowhere to be seen. _Probably out back slacking off, lazy old git_, she grumbled to herself, tapping her fingers against the stand impatiently.

Brittany chuckled at the growing agitation clearly written on Santana's face. The girl never liked to wait for anything. She decided to spare the poor hostess Santana's wrath and started waving enthusiastically to catch her attention.

The sea-change in the dark-haired girl's demeanor was instantaneous. Once rich chocolate eyes met sapphire blue, Santana's features softened, her brow relaxed and her soft, supple lips stretched into a wide, enamored grin. Even from a distance, Brittany could see the tiny dimple in her cheek and her own cheeks grew hot from the pleasure the sight of it gave her. She bit her lip and beckoned the young woman over.

It was a short trip from the hostess stand to the booth, only about 20 steps if that, but with each step she took, Santana became more and more anxious. Her eyes flicked from the empty booth to the one with Brittany and her steps faltered slightly. She made a show of looking back behind her and scowling at some invisible bump in the carpet.

It should have been a simple, almost thoughtless decision. Sit in the empty booth or schooch in next to Brittany. It shouldn't have mattered, really. But lately, every choice, no matter how minute, seemed to be some monumental pronouncement. And tonight, she wasn't sure what she wanted to say.

"Hey," Santana said, finally pulling up to the edge of the table and smiling shyly down at the beautiful blonde.

"Hey," Brittany replied, equally bashful all of a sudden.

They shared a quiet moment and Santana marveled at how easy it was to get lost in the safety, beauty, and adoration in those baby blue eyes. She shook her head and grinned, unable to resist the loving gaze, lightly reddened cheeks, and sweet, sweet smile, and slid in next to Brittany who couldn't help but sit back a little smugly in response.

Just as her butt hit the seat, the chime on the restaurant door drew Santana's attention and the two former Cheerios turned to see the jock strutting into the restaurant. Landon spotted the duo quickly and maneuvered around the hostess station to join them, taking the empty booth without thought. She gave the girls a quick nod and half-smile.

"Hey, ladies," she greeted politely, stretching her long arms out on the table and drumming her fingers against the table. "So …," she started awkwardly, "this is … nice?" Landon didn't really mean for it to sound like a question, but nothing about this evening made any sense to her.

They spent several uneasy minutes reviewing overly familiar (at least to the two former cheerleaders) menus, sipping lukewarm water, and basically avoiding eye-contact with anyone at the table. A haggard-looking waitress took their orders after a stretch and the threesome was left with a very limited set of distractions.

"Cheerios are holding open auditions next week," Brittany said suddenly, chewing idly on the tip of her straw.

While it didn't mean much to Landon, Santana perked up instantly at the information. "What? We're like almost halfway into the season. Why would she be recruiting now? And _open_ auditions? She _hates_ those. How'd you hear about this anyway, B?"

Brittany smiled, happy to have brought up a topic that seemed to have garnered Santana's interest. "Marcy Jenkins said something about it the other day. Said that Coach's freaking out cuz the squad can't get the new routine down and she was yelling at them more than normal. It sounded like Coach was worried about even making it through Regionals this year." Brittany took a long, slow pull off her straw and shrugged again.

Santana sat back, rubbing her fingers against her chin. "Is that so?" she asked and Brittany could fairly see the cogs in the brunette's head spinning. She clenched the straw between her teeth and smirked. A scheming Santana was a happy Santana and the young blonde loved helping her best friend practice and develop all of her considerable skills, even those tactical and strategic affinities that weren't necessarily always put to the best use.

"Huh, we could probably write our own ticket, B," Santana said wistfully, almost to herself.

"Where would we go?" Brittany asked with growing excitement. "I always wanted to take a train, San. Could we go on a train?" She gripped Santana's forearm with both hands, squeezing tightly, her eyes wide.

"We can totally take a train sometime, B. But that's not what I meant." She smiled adoringly at the blonde before dropping her eyes and fiddling with the napkin on her lap. "What do you think about joining Cheerios again?" she asked quietly, pulling her eyes up to meet and hold Brittany's.

Even though she brought the topic up, the dancer was still surprised by the question. She hadn't really given rejoining Cheerios any real consideration. It's not that she was against it outright; it just never really crossed her mind until that moment. She sat back, cocking her head to one side.

Cheerios had always been a love-hate kinda thing for Brittany. On the one hand, she loved the competition and attention. Although the training was grueling, she actually enjoyed the physical demands and the opportunities to develop as a dancer and performer. And Brittany lived for those rare occasions when Coach Sylvester actually invited suggestions for routines or even individual moves, and she could help choreograph some of the visually stunning programs that the Cheerios were known for.

On the other hand, it was an emotionally-taxing experience. The constant putdowns and conniving and mean-spiritedness that came with being part of the team never really sat well with the blonde, and more recently, bending to the whims of a maniacal Sue Sylvester had become really dangerous.

"I dunno," Brittany said, after a few moments thought. "It'd be nice to perform again. I liked being on the team. But …" she trailed off.

"But what, Britt," Santana encouraged gently.

"I don't want to be shot out a cannon, San. I wanna live," she said earnestly, raising timid blue eyes up to meet Santana's, her bottom lip jutting out in a little pout.

The young brunette swiveled in her seat, drawing a leg up on the booth and turning to face Brittany. Her voice was low, serious. "That'll never, _never_ happen, B. I promise. No cannons, no doing anything we don't want to." Santana chewed on her bottom lip, trying to figure out how best to explain the potential gold mine they had here.

"See," she started, her eyes sparkling with possibility, "Sue's run out of options. If what Marcy said is true, then she has to be totally desperate and would probably do anything to get some real, _proven_ talent on the squad. We could run the whole damn thing! Co-captains all the way, Britt!" The more she spoke, the more animated she became until finally she reached over and clutched Brittany's hands in both of hers.

"Shit, Sue'd probably be so fucking thrilled to have us we could negotiate all kinds of perks. Passes to get out of class, some badass office for the two of us, we could even get out of practice whenever we wanted, I bet. And B," she squeezed Brittany's hands in hers, "we could win another National Championship. That's three in four years! With that and a show choir win, I'm sure we could get into some great school in New York or California. We'd make Sue'd write us some killer recs for college applications for sure. We could have choices, Britt, legitimate choices, and finally get the fuck outta this hick town."

It was easy for Brittany to get caught up in another's excitement in most cases, but add Santana to the mix and the girl could barely resist falling for the glint in Santana's dark brown eyes, and how she almost vibrated with anticipation and energy made Brittany's own body buzz and twitch.

But this was a big decision and Brittany knew she needed to consider it fully without Santana's enthusiasm coloring what she ultimately decided. She pulled her hands from under Santana's and reversed their positions, rubbing her thumbs over the soft skin of the girl's knuckles.

"It sounds really awesome," she started slowly. "But can I think about it some? Just to make sure?"

Santana smiled quickly, proud of Brittany for wanting to make her own decision but also a little disappointed in herself for letting so much of her own emotions spill forth. While she wasn't beyond trying to persuade the blonde that her way was the best way, in the end, she always wanted it to be Brittany's decision.

"Yea, yea, 'course." She shook her head quickly, extracting a hand and waving it dismissively. "You said they weren't auditioning till next week anyway. We got time."

They sat back, each turned towards the other with their legs propped on the booth between them, knees brushing lightly. For a moment, they just stared, smiling goofily at each other, oblivious to the quiet jock across the table.

Landon's eyes flicked from one ex-Cheerio to the other, trying to follow the conversation but missing a lot of the details. As with all of their non-sexual threesomes, Landon couldn't help but feel like a third wheel, simply a spectator watching the two from afar, only scraping the surface of what was going on. She was struck by how beautifully and effortlessly and perfectly they fit.

She cleared her throat uncomfortably. It was difficult to intrude on the scene because that's exactly what it felt like, an intrusion. But Landon wasn't just gonna sit there and watch the two girls making googly eyes at each other all night.

"So," Landon spoke up finally, "y'all wanna be cheerleaders, huh? That's cool. Boss outfit and all that …," her voice trailed off awkwardly. She reached for her glass and took a slow sip just for something to do. "Um," she started again, "you never did say why it was y'all quit in the first place."

Santana swung her leg off the seat and turned to face the table fully, resting her forearms against the cool surface of the table. "It's kinda complicated," she shrugged.

"It's not like we don't have the time," Landon countered, stretching her arms out wide and resting them along the back of the booth.

With an exaggerated eye roll, the dark-haired girl replied, "Coach Sylvester wanted to shoot Britt out of a cannon and that wasn't cool so we quit."

Gold-green eyes shifted between the two girls, a slender eyebrow arching in question. "_That's_ your complicated story," she said playfully, smirking at the brunette across from her.

Santana returned the grin and cocked her head to the side, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back.

"Did you see what Rachel was wearing today?" Brittany asked, changing the conversation quickly and twirling the straw in her glass.

"I know!" Santana shouted excitedly, slamming her hand on the table and turning to face the blonde. "What the hell _was_ that? I swear she's going for slutty five-year-old and it's totally creeping me out."

For the next several minutes, the two best friends chatted about fashion and reality TV and had a really weird conversation about smoking jackets for cats. Landon tried to take it all in stride, following as much as she could but really not giving a fuck about whatever inane thing they were going on about. She munched on her breadsticks, drank her soda, nodded whenever one of girls glanced her way, and ended up running through various football drills in her head.

Just as she finished her 6th breadstick, she felt a buzzing in her pocket. She looked up to see the two girls prattling on about some travesty of justice on an old _Project Runway_ before pulling her phone out of her pocket.

**How's it going? Any bloodshed?**

Landon smirked, pulling her eyes up quickly to make sure Brittany and Santana were still engrossed in conversation and typing back a message to Quinn.

**Brutal but no blood. Yet. Btw, who the fuck is Gretchen and why is she wearing potato sacks?**

**No idea. But hang in there! It's all about the challenge after all :)**

**Bite me**

**You wish!**

The jock laughed suddenly, catching the attention of the former Cheerios. Curious blue and brown eyes trained on her and she blushed under the scrutiny. She mumbled a quick "sorry" before pocketing her phone and grabbing another breadstick.

Their food came out shortly after and Landon found herself pushing her pasta around on her plate, the breadsticks combined with the burgers and fries she ate earlier having finally curbed her impressive appetite.

"Um," Brittany's lilting voice broke through the relatively comfortable silence that had settled over the table. "So Riff, are you quarterback now?" she asked, Mike's advice echoing in her head. Although Brittany found the other woman beyond irritating, she would try to play nice for Santana and act as if their whole relationship didn't make her want to throw up and pummel the jock at the same time.

The question startled Landon and from the furrowed brow and scrunched face of the brunette across from her, it caught Santana off guard as well.

"Oh, um, I think so. Bieste's been running me through the playbook as quarterback so I think she's gonna try me out as starter next game."

"That's cool," Brittany asserted, nodding twirling long strands of spaghetti around her fork. "You like it?"

Landon smiled genuinely for the first time that night, her glittering green-gold eyes catching the florescent lights and sparkling. "Yea, totally." She leaned forward, pushing her plate aside and clasping her hands on the tabletop. "Practice has been so fucking awesome. We're so much more diversified now and Bieste's been toying with some dope trick plays. We're even doing quarterback draws now cuz she knows I'm a runner and it's just been …" she looked up and took in the puzzled look on Brittany's face and the bored expression on Santana's, "really great," she finished with far less enthusiasm.

"They want you to draw in the middle of the game?" Brittany asked. "Is it like those sketches they do during court cases and stuff? That could be fun! Could I be in it?"

Landon crinkled her brow and squinted, trying to decipher what the blonde was asking exactly. She looked over to Santana, knowing from past experience that the dark-haired girl would answer Brittany's peculiar question without hesitation.

"A draw is a run play, B. So Landon would keep the ball and run instead of passing it."

The jock sat back, a little impressed. Sure, a draw play was a simple thing, but it did require more than casual viewing from the sideline to know the terminology. For as much as Santana liked to feign indifference, the girl actually knew some stuff, and Landon couldn't help but smirk at the eye roll Santana gave her after sharing a knowing look.

"So what's up with the food, Shariff?" Santana asked after a minute, gesturing to the jock's mostly full plate. "I usually have to stab you with my fork to keep you away from my food at this point."

"Eh, I ended up having a snack at the mall earlier so I'm pretty stuffed still."

"You were at the mall? Why? You usually avoid that place like the fucking plague," Santana questioned, shocked that Landon would voluntarily put herself in that particular social scene. It was usually took some gargantuan effort to get the jock to accompany her any time she wanted to shop.

"Quinn and I decided to head down there after practice," she said innocently. "That's where I was when you texted, but I'd already eaten by then."

Santana's eyes narrowed and her jaw tensed. When she spoke, her voice was low, almost menacing. "You and Q? What were you doing hanging out with her?" She was pissed. There was only one reason goody-two-shoes Quinn would spend time with Landon and that was to mess with _her_.

Landon met the girl's hard glare, flinching at the steely brown orbs targeted unwaveringly on her. She swallowed uncomfortably. "It was nothing really. She came down to the field after practice and we just got to talking and stuff."

"Yea, right. She just _happened_ by the field," she said sarcastically. It was painfully obvious to Santana that the calculated blonde had no interest in the jock other than to weasel information out of her. "So what did you talk about _exactly_?" she asked coolly.

"Why are you getting all bent outta shape over this? We got a bite at the mall. What's the big deal?" the jock shot back, increasingly irritated with the Santana's accusing tone and aggressive posture. She knew it wasn't jealousy motivating the girl's response—at least that would've felt kinda good—it was suspicion and fear and it ticked Landon off that Santana didn't trust her enough to protect her.

"The _big deal_," Santana said slowly, her light brown eyes turning dark and stormy, "is that I don't want _my business_ being gossiped around the whole fucking town."

"Oh get the fuck over yourself, Lopez," Landon spat, throwing her napkin on the table. "I know you're popular and high on the social ladder and all that bullshit, but that doesn't mean _everyone _is totally focused on your life. Did you ever think that maybe Quinn was interested in me? _Me_," she thumped her chest, "and that that has fuck all to do with you."

"Oh please. Quinn _fucking_ Fabray doesn't give a shit about you and if you think otherwise you're a fucking fool. She's only talking to you to try to get shit on me. Don't be a dumbass! She's playing you, Shariff."

Wide blue eyes followed the exchange like a tennis match, moving back and forth from Santana to Landon. She went back to chewing on her already worn her thumbnail. As much as she disliked the jock, Brittany hated confrontation more, and she didn't like seeing Santana upset. She burrowed into the corner of the booth, her eyes continuing to shift from one girl to the other.

Landon ducked her head and clenched her fists, her short nails biting into the skin of her palms. She didn't want to believe Santana. Didn't want to think that Quinn's only agenda was to get information from her. It was proving to be a difficult task, however, since Quinn _did_ ask about Santana. She _was_ interested in what was going on between them.

But it wasn't like Santana was making it out to be. Quinn wasn't searching for gossip. She wasn't trying to hurt the girl. Landon was sure of it.

"Not everyone's out to get you, Lopez," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "I certainly ain't and I don't think Quinn is either." She swept her gaze to the side and saw Brittany reach a hand out and rest it on Santana's thigh. Landon watched the stressed girl relax immediately, her jaw still tense, her eyes narrow, but her breathing slowing and the stiffness in her shoulders beginning to fade.

"You keep pushing people away," Landon continued, "eventually they're gonna take the hint." She laughed, but it wasn't pleasant. It was strained and cutting, as if she was coming to some bitter realization. Her eyes traveled between the two girls. At some point, Brittany had moved the hand that wasn't resting on Santana's thigh to the small of her back, rubbing little circles over the material of the girl's dress. "Fuck," she breathed, smiling sadly and pressing the palms of her hands against her eyelids before running her fingers through her hair. "Guess I'm really fucking bad at taking hints, huh?"

They finished dinner in another awkward silence, neither brunette making an effort to engage the other and Brittany not really knowing what to say that wouldn't set the two girls off again. They declined dessert, Landon responding to the waitress's request with a "Dear God, no" and Santana quickly grabbing Brittany's hand as the blonde went to pick up the dessert menu and shaking her head, her eyes comically wide.

They all went dutch, and after paying, Brittany excused herself to go to the bathroom, leaving the two dark-haired girls shifting uncomfortably in the restaurant alcove.

"Look," Santana said with an exasperated sigh. "Sorry about earlier. I know _you_ wouldn't gossip or anything. It's just Fabray. You don't know her like I do, Landon. She's manipulative and cold and I just don't want you getting played, okay?"

Landon blew out a breath that could almost have been a laugh and smiled. "You ever give yourself whiplash as fast as you change moods?" she asked, her voice light and teasing.

Santana smiled and shrugged. "I'm complicated."

Landon laughed fully at that. "You're something else, Lopez. Just when I think I got you figured out, you surprise me. And not always in a good way," she joked.

"Yea well, somebody's gotta keep you on your toes. It's good practice for dodging defenders during those draw plays," she said with a smirk.

They shared shy smiles. A truce from their earlier dispute.

"You wanna come over," Santana asked a little unsurely and hesitant.

Landon searched the girl's eyes, trying to determine what it was Santana was _really_ asking. Finally, unable to decode the enigmatic teen's intention, she shrugged. "Sure. Meet ya there?"

Santana nodded, throwing her coat on and buttoning it up once she caught sight of the blonde returning from the restroom.

"Brittany," Landon said, stretching her hand out, "thanks for the invite."

The blonde eyed the hand warily for a second before gripping it firmly and shaking hard.

"Good to see you, Riff," she replied cordially, trying to mimic those businessmen in tailored suits she'd seen on TV.

"It's been … interesting, ladies," Landon grinned, pulling her hand from the blonde's eager grasp and shaking it out good-naturedly.

The trio departed the restaurant amiably, each happy to have survived the night without losing a limb but none of them really knowing how to process the evening fully.

Landon still felt like an outsider around the two best friends. They had a language that spoke itself in cryptic words and touches and flickers of eyes. It was actually really beautiful and the jock found herself captivated by the exchange on more than one occasion. But in addition to the girls' eerie closeness, Landon was still unsettled by her fight with Santana and the girl's sudden change in attitude. She never felt on sure ground with the girl and she hated the uncertainty.

Santana didn't know what the hell she was doing. It shouldn't have surprised her how easy it was being with Brittany. It had always been that way. But she was sure that revealing her relationship with Landon would change all that, would strain things between them and that possibility had twisted her gut since the day of the reveal. But Brittany was constantly surprising her and her love for the girl had only grown as she continued to see how strong and kind and smart and just fucking amazing the young dancer was. She didn't want to lose her but she didn't know how to stop pushing her away.

And Landon suddenly hanging out with Quinn had completely unnerved her. Santana's relationship with Quinn had always been shaky, and not even their recent heart-to-hearts could wipe all the mistrust and prior back-stabbing clean. Part of her would always see the blonde as a rival of sorts, and she didn't want Landon getting sucked into their mess.

For her part, Brittany wasn't sure she'd accomplished anything at all during dinner. It had been fun being around Santana and she was relieved the two girls hadn't flaunted their relationship in front of her. But honestly, the whole night had been really confusing. Try as she might, she just couldn't understand what they saw in each other. They seemed to argue _a lot_ and it baffled the blonde how two such hard-headed, quick-tempered, assertive girls got together in the first place.

She'd have to call Mike later and get his take on what happened. After getting over the initial discomfort of talking about actual _stuff_ with the athletic boy, Brittany found that she actually appreciated his rationale, no-nonsense, goal-oriented approach to her problems. It felt good not over-thinking everything and living in her head all the time. Now that she was _doing_ something, she felt motivated and hopeful, and things felt possible again.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Santana pushed against Landon's shoulders, trying to shift the muscular, _heavy_ jock off her without detaching their lips. The pair had been making out on Santana's bed for several minutes, and she desperately wanted to switch positions. But Landon held firm, rocking herself into the soft, supple body beneath her and pressing Santana further into her oversized bed.

Not to be deterred, however, Santana slipped a leg between the jock's, dug her heels into the mattress under her and reached around to clutch at Landon's shoulders. She snaked a tongue into the quarterback's mouth and once she felt Landon relax into the kiss, she bucked her hips and pushed off her heels, leveraging herself up and over the distracted girl.

They grunted as they settled into the new position, Santana wasting no time and pinning Landon's hands to the bed, nipping at the lips underneath hers aggressively.

As soon as she found a satisfying rhythm, however, Santana found herself flipped unceremoniously on her back once again. A low growl bubbled up from her throat and she raked her fingers through Landon's hair, coiling the thick locks between her fingers and pulling up not-so-gently. She grabbed a shoulder with her free hand and used her lips, hands, and chest to push up against the stronger girl.

Landon gave in a little, letting her broad shoulders rise some at Santana's insistence. As the girl continued to buck up, though, she redoubled her efforts, pressing her body back into Santana's and pinning her down once again.

Santana's hands clenched rhythmically on Landon's body in equal parts frustration and desire. The jock's warm skin and sweet lips were intoxicating, but still, she wiggled uncomfortably beneath the weight of the taller girl. She hated being on the bottom, so out of control and vulnerable, and she bit Landon's top lip roughly and bucked her hips, trying in vain to flip positions.

"Jesus Fucking Christ, Shariff!" she shouted, ripping her lips from Landon's. Her breath came out in heavy, violent bursts and she stared up at the flushed jock hovering over her. "Can I be on top one fucking time?"

For a moment, only the sounds of short, rapid breathing broke the silence. Landon's eyes were glazed, her pupils dilated and her forehead crinkling in a mix of confusion and lust. It only took a second, however, for both girls to register Santana's words and wide, surprised eyes met. The teenagers fell into a fit of giggles at how ridiculous it all sounded.

Their sputtered laughter went on for a few, tension-relieving seconds before Landon pulled up and rolled off the small girl. She sat up on the bed, her arms thrown back behind her, her long legs stretched out past the edge of the bed.

"What are we doing, Santana," she asked after catching her breath, turning her head to the side and giving the beautiful girl a half-grin. "I ain't no pussy, but even _I_ don't think it's supposed to be this hard."

Santana, still sprawled out on the bed, her back against the mattress and her legs dangling over the side, stared up at the ceiling, their previous laughter leaving her a bit breathless. "What's that?" she asked.

"You know, relationships and stuff."

Santana let out a bitter laugh. "What happened to 'nothing worth having is easy,'" she mocked, swinging her head to the side and meeting the jock's gaze.

Landon smirked. "You're a smartass but I like you, Lopez." She threw herself back and settled next to Santana. "What are we doing here, sweetheart?" she asked again. "We're too alike, you and me. A couple of badass butches who know how to stand up and fight but who can't open up enough, let go enough, to give over control."

"Did you just call me butch?" Santana asked, sitting up abruptly, her eyes darkening at the absurd accusation. "I am _not_ butch."

Landon chuckled and raised her hands in surrender. "Don't go all Lima Heights on me. Just hear me out." She sat up and leaned back on her hands. "I'm like jock-butch, you're HBIC-butch, but it's all the same in the end. Both of us wanting to be in charge and neither willing to risk being vulnerable." She shrugged, "at least not with each other."

The bed dipped as Landon threw herself back, threading her fingers together and resting her head on her clasped hands. Santana followed suit and settled down beside her, their shoulders brushing lightly.

"Coming out was hard," Landon said all of a sudden, her eyes focused on the ceiling. "Harder than I ever thought." The scene played out in her head, the heavy blows that didn't hurt half as much as her mother's silence, the ice-cold SUV she spent the first night huddled within, the hard, suspicious eyes of strangers when she was deposited on their doorstep.

"But maybe," she continued softly, rolling her head to side to catch Santana's gaze. "Maybe if I had someone like Brittany, it wouldn't have been so hard or hurt so much. I wouldn't," she cleared her throat, "I wouldn't have had to go through all of that alone."

Santana's eyes watered suddenly and she ran her fingertips gently under her eyelid, whisking away any fallen moisture quickly.

Landon blew out a hard breath that fluttered her lips. "You know Brittany and I haven't really had the best relationship." That caused the corner of Santana's mouth to lift in a tiny grin. "_But_," she emphasized, "she loves you, and I would've given _anything_ to have had that, to have had someone like her, back then."

The jock rolled onto her side and propped her head on her fist. She chuckled softly, drawing Santana's gaze. "As much as it _pains_ me to admit this," Landon started teasingly, "I think we could all use a Brittany in our lives."

Santana couldn't help but smile at the thought. "Yea, we should all be so lucky," she whispered.

"But that's the thing," Landon said, reaching out to smooth a stray curl from the young girl's face, "you _are_ that lucky."

Tears pooled in Santana's eyes and she clenched them shut. "Fuck," she drawled out, rubbing her eyes and sniffling. "Why you gotta get all Deepak Chopra on me?" she joked, slapping the jock in the stomach.

Landon shrugged a shoulder. "I'm complicated," she replied, echoing teen's earlier words.

Santana took a couple of long, slow breaths before sitting up cross-legged in the center of the bed. She looked down at the lounging quarterback and stretched a finger out, tracing a lightly arched eyebrow. "You're really beautiful. You know that, right?" Santana whispered.

Landon gave her a small, thin smile, her cheeks growing hot at the compliment. "'Course," she replied, trying to look all cocky and self-assured. She pulled away from the girl and sat up too, moving to the head of the bed and leaning back. She brought a leg up and clasped her hands around her knee, letting the other swing idly over the edge.

They were pretty spent, the rapidly-shifting emotions of the last few hours beginning to take its toll. After a quiet moment, Landon patted the mattress next to her and Santana nestled in by her side, her head tilted against the jock's strong shoulder. She picked at the hem of her dress.

"Will you help me with something?" Santana asked, her voice scratchy and unsure.

Landon swallowed and bent her head briefly against Santana's, willing herself to hold it together. She took a deep breath and used her fingertips to turn Santana to face her.

"Always," she replied simply, her voice wavering but her eyes holding firm.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: What did you think? Did the chapter move too fast? I really wanted to get things going but I hope it didn't come out too forced. It was super exciting to hear your thoughts about Quindon/Shabray. Don't where it's going or if it's going anywhere at all, but I loved hearing from the different camps. Thank you for your reviews and alerts! They legitimately make my day. It'll be a little bit before the next chapter as I'll be working on my other fic, "Roughnecks in Love." Thanks for being so patient and amazing! Please review if you get the chance. Good or bad, I really appreciate it.**


	21. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything.

Chapter Twenty

**Picnic with Tina and Mike the park. You and L wanna join?**

Santana shook her head and smirked. Brittany never ceased to amaze her. Despite all of the awkwardness of their last few outings, the tenacious blonde seemed hell-bent on trying to make things work. The sheer determination and love the blonde possessed made Santana's heart ache and she rubbed her chest absently.

"What?" Landon asked, watching the dark-haired girl grin down at her phone. The jock was stretched out on Santana's bed, loose sheets of papers scattered around her. She'd been reading through stacks of lyrics when Santana's phone buzzed and pulled the girls from their extensive review.

Santana, seated at the edge of the bed, her legs dangling over the side, tossed her phone at Landon who caught it with ease.

"Seriously?" the jock asked with amusement. "She seems too chipper to be a masochist, but I have no other explanation." Her quick reflexes allowed her to move a fraction of a second before a pillow connected with her face and she chuckled to herself.

"She's just nice," Santana explained, rolling her eyes at the jock. "I told you she wasn't like us." A smug smile stretched across her face as she looked back at Landon. "So, what do you think?"

Landon shrugged, picking up the pillow thrown unceremoniously at her and tucking it in between her back and the headboard. "You're running the show, babe. I'm up for whatever."

Santana took a moment to run through the possibility of spending the afternoon with Brittany and Landon and an audience to boot. Out of all the gleeks, Tina and Mike were the lowest maintenance. She'd worked well with Tina in the past, appreciating the girl's unique ear and eccentric taste in music, and Mike was decent, low-drama and not too obnoxious. It was just what they might see and infer from the three of them that made her hesitate.

She picked at a well-manicured nail before finally looking over at Landon with a slight huff. "Let's go. But," she paused, worry etching the corners of her dark eyes. "But I'm not … I'm not ready," was all she could get out, bending her head and focusing on the comforter at her side.

But she didn't have to say anything more.

"Hey," Landon called out softly, drawing Santana's attention. "I won't say anything. It'll just be a normal, completely uncomfortable train wreck like always," she joked to lighten the dark girl's mood. "No one needs to know anything."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"Okay, so don't be mad."

Brittany, Mike and Tina had arrived at the park together. They'd laid out two huge blankets with coolers and grocery bags weighing down the ends in case of any wind. The dark-haired girl had just run off to the restrooms near the parking lot and as soon as she was out of earshot, Mike had turned to Brittany with a sheepish grin and mischief in his eye.

"Uh-oh, that's never a good start to anything, Mikey. What'd ya do?" she asked, meeting his impish look with a smile of her own.

"Okay, so it's not bad-bad, but I've been thinking this thing out and I think you need a little kick start, something to really light a fire under Santana's butt." Brittany giggled at the imagery. "Hanging out with them is a good start," he continued, "but with as stubborn as she is that could take forever. So I've got a little something in mind that'll help move things along. So just be ready and go with it, okay?"

Brittany looked up to see Tina making her way back to their blanket. Mike's plan made her nervous, especially since she didn't really know what to expect. But she trusted the boy. He was super smart and super sweet, so she nodded before smiling and chucking a carrot stick at him. "Okay, but if it blows up, you have to clean up the mess," she said, her anxiety apparent even through her gentle teasing.

Landon and Santana arrived shortly after, the jock carrying a cooler and a couple of bags of food while Santana strut empty-handed in front of her. The ex-Cheerio plopped down next to Brittany and tossed her sunglasses to the side while Landon got everything settled.

"Hey guys," Landon said warmly. "Thanks for the invite. It's beautiful out here." She stretched out on the other side of Santana, her long legs extending over the edge of the blanket, careful not to kick dirt up on the surface.

The group unpacked some snacks and they chatted amiably about glee and school and other teenage things they had in common. Mike and Tina actually served as a good buffer for the threesome. They kept conversation light, engaging everyone, and Santana found herself relaxing quickly under the warm sun and easy banter.

"So you ready for your duet at Invitationals?" Tina asked, passing a bag of chips to Santana after grabbing a handful for herself.

"Oh God, I just want to get the whole thing over with already. If I have to spend one more afternoon with the Hobbit I swear I'm not gonna be responsible for my actions. There's one particularly gaudy animal sweater I wouldn't mind wringing her neck with. She's seriously working my last nerve."

The group chuckled at her irritation, and Santana turned and punched Landon hard on the shoulder.

"Ow, hey!" Landon shouted, rubbing the tender flesh. "What was that for?"

"It's your damn fault, Shariff. I can't believe you got me saddled with the dwarf."

"Oh come on. You have to admit it's sounding really dope. The last run through was awesome. If you don't count the glaring, of course," Landon teased.

"So you worked things out with Schue about the outfit and stuff?" Mike asked, knowing the jock and the choir director had had words about it in the past.

"Yea. I get to wear what y'all do but he hasn't given me a dance partner yet. He might just stick me in the back and let me sway by myself. Although I don't know how me in slacks is any more distracting than watching Finn jerk around like he's being electrocuted all the time," she joked. "But anything's better than wearing that frilly mess the girls got." She swung her gaze to the ladies seated around her. "No offense," she said with a smile.

"I actually like the dress," Brittany interjected. "It makes me feel like sunshine."

Landon snorted. "Well, if you can make that fluff ball look good, more power to ya."

"Please, B can make anything look good," Santana said confidently, nudging the blonde with her shoulder. "It's all in the legs. Ain't that right, B?" Brittany blushed at the compliment and ducked her head. "When you got the perfect body you can make anything work, and we're totally gonna rock that look," she said, smiling happily at the blonde.

Mike smirked at the interplay. This was working perfectly! He glanced up and saw a tall, dark-haired girl approaching them and his smile grew even wider. The boy could barely keep from tapping his fingers together maniacally, but he brushed his hand against Tina's knee and gestured to the approaching woman instead.

"Oh hey!" Tina called out, waving the girl over. "Guys, that's Evelyn Cheng. She's a friend from camp and we asked her to join us. Hope you don't mind."

The newcomer was thin and tall, dressed casually like they all were with a tight-fitting t-shirt and loose short-shorts. She had smoky, dark eyes and long, super-straight hair that fell just below her shoulders. She smiled widely as she neared. Evelyn Cheng was certainly a looker.

Tina introduced everyone as Evelyn took a seat directly across and a bit too close to Brittany.

"Thanks for having me, guys. Works been a bitch and it's nice getting out and just enjoying the day," she said warmly.

"Evelyn interns at the Humane Society," Mike informed the group. "She goes to the University and is studying what? Zoology?"

The newcomer nodded with a smile. "Zoology and Veterinary Sciences."

"So you work with animals all day?" Brittany asked with excitement. "That's so boss! Like do you get to play with all the kittens and stuff? Can you take them home if you promise to bring them back? Oh, but what if they fall in love with you and then they wouldn't want to come back so you'd end up having to keep them all, but then you could have like a kitty ranch or something with like rooms filled with cat-trees and toys and you could make your yard into a little kitty obstacle course. I bet people would like to see that. You could charge admission for people to come and play with the kitties and stuff, like a kitty amusement park! Is that what you're doing?"

They all chuckled at the blonde's enthusiasm, Evelyn giving her a wide grin.

"Britt here's a bit of a cat-buff," Mike explained. "She'd probably give you a run for your money with as much as she knows about them."

"Oh really," Evelyn replied flirtatiously, making a show of eyeing the blonde appreciatively. "I would love to hear all about it."

Santana raised an eyebrow and clenched her fists. This new girl was _not_ coming on to Brittany—_her_ Brittany—right in front of everyone. She just met her for Christ's sake.

"If you're interested," Evelyn continued, her voice deep and heavy with suggestion, "I could give you a behind-the-scenes tour of the place sometime."

"Oh wow," Brittany replied, oblivious to the innuendo, "that would be awesome!"

Evelyn smiled eagerly, bright white teeth gleaming in the midday sun. "We'll definitely have to exchange numbers and set things up then." She was rewarded with an effortless grin and happy nod. Evelyn swallowed slowly and bit her lip, her brow furrowing slightly as if she was debating how to proceed. After a second, she cleared her throat and raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, grinning mischievously.

"Gosh," she started, her voice light and teasing, "Mike and Tina have told me _a lot_ about you, Brittany. But they failed to mention absolutely beautiful you are. You're really stunning."

Santana had to keep herself from gagging at the completely clichéd, _tired_ line. This chick had no game at all. But what the fuck were Tina and Mike doing telling her all about Brittany for anyway? They couldn't seriously be setting her up with this bitch. What the fuck was going on?

Brittany just shrugged and smiled. "Don't be mad at them. Sometimes you can forget how pretty someone is when you've known them a long time and see them every day. I'm sure they didn't mean to forget." She glanced up and saw that Santana had her lips pursed and her forehead crinkled into an irritated frown. It was the cutest thing. Cuter than LT when he was a baby even. "'Course there are some people who are so beautiful it doesn't matter how often you see them. You could stare at them for hours or days or years even and it'd never be enough." Her eyes were trained on Santana and when those big, deep brown eyes met hers, they didn't waver, didn't even seem to blink. "They'd always be the prettiest thing in the world."

Evelyn cocked her head to the side, her smile becoming more shy and less aggressive. "That's a really beautiful thing to say, Britt. Do you mind if I call you Britt?"

The moment was broken and the blonde pulled herself reluctantly from Santana's gaze. "Sure," she shrugged. "Everybody calls me that."

Landon made a show of coughing dramatically, giving herself a few thumps on the chest with her fist for good measure.

"_Mostly_ everybody call me that," Brittany clarified, narrow eyes trained on the now smirking jock.

"Well, aside from neglecting to tell me how gorgeous you are, these two did say that you're a terrific dancer. Have you been doing it long?"

Brittany nodded. "Yea, like since I was a kid. You dance?"

Evelyn laughed and to Santana it sounded like the fakest, most grating sound in the world. She reached up into her weave, fingers grazing the razorblades tucked neatly away in the back.

"No, no," Evelyn dismissed. "I don't have the kind of moves these two have. I went the musician route instead."

"Oh yea? What do you play?"

"All the Asian standards, I'm afraid." At Brittany confused look, she continued, "piano and violin mainly. Pretty traditional stuff. But I did rebel enough to make the folks get me an electric violin when I was 15."

"I didn't know they made electric violins. Are they like electric guitars?" the blonde asked.

"It's a very similar effect actually. Have you heard any Vanessa Mae?" Brittany shook her head no. "Well, when you come out for that behind-the-scenes tour, I'll play some for you," she said with a wink.

Suddenly, she leaned across the blanket slowly and brought her long, thin fingers up to Brittany's cheek. "You got a little something there," she explained, brushing the back of her fingers against the reddened skin.

The blonde pulled back shyly and mumbled a quick "thanks." The newcomer was starting to give her a weird vibe. She seemed nice enough—okay, maybe a little too nice—but something seemed off. The girl seemed too focused on her for some reason.

Santana's nostrils flared and the veins in her neck pulsed. She imagined smoke billowing from her ears like she was some old-fashioned cartoon character. This chick had some nerve, invading Brittany's personal space and touching her like that. Santana felt a growl rumbling up from the pit of her stomach.

"You know, Britt," Evelyn started again, catching the menacing look Santana was giving her herself a mental pat on the back. "I've always wanted to learn to dance. Lord knows these two," she threw her head back to Mike and Tina, "are far too busy making out all the time to teach me." She smiled slyly. "What'd ya say, Britt? You up for some private lessons some time?"

Suddenly, Mike's warning along with the new girl's very direct attention all made sense, and Brittany's eyes grew wide in surprise. This woman was coming on to her! And Mike had arranged the whole damn thing!

Brittany shot up from her seat quickly, startling the group who all jumped back some. Brilliant blue eyes darted from Evelyn to Mike to Santana and she blurted the first thing that came to mind. "We gotta go to the car, Mikey!" They were all still staring at her, their wide, half-worried half-amused eyes making her more and more nervous. She ran possible excuses in her head before finally settling on the most plausible one. "I think LT might have jumped in your trunk when we were packing everything in. We gotta go check before he suffocates and dies. _Dies_, Mikey!"

"Calm down, Britt," he said soothingly, "I don't think he'd-" Mike cut himself off at the sight of Brittany's icy stare. "But we should probably check anyway," he finished, hauling himself up and letting the blonde drag him by the elbow up to the parking lot.

Brittany looked back over her shoulder to make sure they were far enough away that no one would overhear them. Her stride was long and quick and when she spoke, her words came out in a harsh whisper. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked.

"We're gonna check for your cat, remember?" Mike answered, his brow furrowing in a bit of confusion.

"No!" Brittany turned around quickly, making sure her outburst hadn't drawn the group's attention. "No, not that," she said more quietly, finally pulling him to a stop next to his car. "That girl is _flirting_ with me."

"I know!" Mike said excitedly. "Isn't it great? I thought Santana was going to lunge at her and break her fingers off when she touched you!" He was almost giddy. Everything was going better than even he had hoped!

"No, no, no, no," she rattled off anxiously , "you don't understand. That's what drove her away in the first place." She shook her head back and forth at a rapid pace. "I told her I'd wait for her to be ready. She's not gonna like this. She's not gonna like it at all." Brittany's wide blue eyes swung up to look at Mike. "I don't want to hurt anyone anymore."

"Okay, just calm down. It's not gonna go that far, I promise. Look," he took her by the hand and moved around his car so that they were shielded from the group, "you're not actually gonna date her. Evelyn's straight and she knows the deal. She's just helping you out. No one's gonna get hurt." He grabbed Brittany by the shoulders and held her steady. "Santana needs to see what's at stake here. We're just giving her the push she needs."

"I don't wanna play anymore games," she pouted.

Mike sighed and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I'll tell Evelyn to tone it down some when I get the chance, okay? And you don't have to flirt back or anything. Just," he blew out a long breath, "just relax and be your normal, friendly self. I really think this is going great, you'll see. We're gonna go get your lady, Britt," he said, smiling brightly and easing some of the blonde's worries. "Come on." He tugged on her hand. "No one's gonna get hurt, but I still don't want to miss it if Santana does decide to thrown down with Evelyn," he teased, earning him a thump on the chest from Brittany.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Back at the blanket, Santana was seething. She didn't buy Brittany's excuse for a second. It was clear to her that Evelyn's horrendous flirting was making the blonde uncomfortable. _Nervy bitch_, she fumed. She looked over to Mike's car to see the pair deep in conversation which only aggravated her more. _No one _upset Brittany and got away with it.

"So, Cheng, Chang, it's a wonder you can keep each other straight with names like that," she mocked, picking her at nails disinterestedly.

"It's actually not that hard," Evelyn replied coolly, the corner of her lips turning up in a smirk. "Us being different people and all."

Yup, Santana Lopez did _not_ like this girl. Not one fucking bit, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laying into her full force.

Evelyn turned to Tina, effectively dismissing the angry brunette whose jaw was so tense there was almost an audible crack as her teeth ground. "So, Britt, huh?" she asked Tina as she tried to sneak a peek at the infuriated brunette without the other spotting her. "Super hot. You're sure she's single, right?"

"Uh, um," Tina stammered. She wasn't completely onboard with Mike's master plan, but after forcing him to seek out and help Brittany, she didn't feel right knocking his ideas without at least giving them a chance. But Santana was incredibly intimidating and she wasn't sure how much you could poke a tiger before you got your fucking arm ripped off. "I … I think so. She hasn't," she swallowed nervously, catching Santana's glare, "she hasn't said she's seeing anyone."

"Fantastic," Evelyn enthused, stretching her arms behind her and leaning back casually.

"Look here, New Asian," Santana snarled. Sure, it was a pretty tame barb considering what was boiling within her, but her brain was too consumed with rage to come up with a more elaborate insult. She pushed up onto her knees and leaned forward. "I don't know who you think you are, but if you even _think_ about laying one of those gnarled, craggly little fingers on-"

"Oh look!" Tina called out suddenly, cutting Santana off. "They're heading back and no cat, yay!" she said with false cheer.

Landon just sat back and chuckled. The only thing that would have made the whole scene better was if she had a big bowl of buttery movie popcorn to munch on. Instead she settled for a handful of Cheetos (extra crunchy, of course) and kicked back to watch the show.

She was tickled by the whole damn thing. The newcomer had chutzpah, first with the blatant flirting with Brittany and then with goading the short-tempered girl. It was like watching some real-time lesbian melodrama and she couldn't get enough.

Evelyn was a fascinating character. She was attractive and assertive, but a little strange as well. There was something almost forced about her interest in Brittany. It seemed really over the top and awkward. At first Landon thought she was just a baby-gay and hadn't gotten her game down yet, but the woman was way too aggressive to be such a newbie. Landon didn't quite get her, but she was intrigued nonetheless.

And Santana was totally losing it which was something to behold. Landon had seen the dark-haired girl go off on a number of occasions, and she'd seen it directed at her more times than she'd like, but this was just too fucking funny. The newcomer was getting Santana so flustered that she could barely control herself. And there was just something about the anger smoldering under the surface of her skin, making her vibrate and glow that so fucking _hot_ Landon couldn't help but enjoy the confrontation just a little bit.

The jock chuckled under her breath, highly anticipating Act II.

"False alarm," Mike announced cheerfully, plopping down next to Tina and snaking an arm around her back. Brittany nodded in agreement, settling in and scooting close to Santana leaving greater distance between her and the new girl.

"Well I'm glad," Evelyn said. "I'd hate to see the little thing in distress."

Tina forced out a laugh, desperate to keep things light. "You definitely don't know LT! He's anything but little."

"Aw, he's just big-boned," Brittany pouted cutely. "And big-furred."

For the next few minutes, Brittany and Evelyn talked about cats with the beautiful blonde trying to convince the prospective vet that feeding cats copious amounts of cheese was actually a good thing. After Evelyn kept insisting it wasn't, Brittany finally gave up and shook her head sadly. "Are you sure-_sure_ you wanna be a vet? Quite frankly, I don't think you got the chops."

Santana sputtered out a laugh, thrilled that Brittany didn't seem terribly interested in the girl despite Evelyn's future profession.

Brittany patted Santana's knee distractedly, letting her hand rest on the girl's leg while keeping her eyes targeted on the newcomer. Santana smiled smugly.

"It's just," Brittany continued, "you don't really seem to know anything about cats and it'll probably take a lot of school to get you caught up and even then a lot of animal care is intuitive and I just don't know if you have it."

Evelyn sat back, confusion making her brow crinkle. This girl couldn't really believe what she was saying, right? It didn't make any sense. She swung her eyes over to Mike who just shrugged as if this was a normal train of thought for the blonde. Getting no help from him, she shifted her sights to Santana who was smirking haughtily at her, her beautiful brown eyes twinkling in satisfaction. Remembering her role, she plastered what she hoped was a seductive smile on her face and leaned closer to Brittany.

"I'm certainly gonna try my best to learn as much as I can, Britt. You really have a beautiful heart, you know? I just hope the people in your life never take it for granted," she said, arching an eyebrow at Santana as she finished her statement.

Brittany felt the muscles in Santana's leg twitch under her hand and she squeezed it gently.

"They do," Brittany said firmly, not even a sliver of doubt or hesitation in her voice.

Mike grinned quietly to himself, studying the interactions between the three girls carefully. In his opinion, things couldn't have been going better for Brittany. Evelyn was doing her best to assert herself between the two best friends but they only seemed to pull together tighter at each attempt to intrude. It was thoughtless and wonderful, and Mike didn't know how anyone could not see that they were meant for each other.

It wasn't the girls' eerie closeness or how they seemed to instinctively know what the other needed that puzzled him. What had him scratching his head was the complete lack of response from Landon. The jock didn't seem interested in why Santana was getting so bent out of shape at Evelyn's flirting. She didn't appear phased by the intimacy the two girls shared so easily.

Mike wondered what he'd do or feel in the same situation and he didn't think he'd be nearly as calm or … amused by it all as Landon seemed to be. He couldn't quite figure the jock out, but his allegiance was to Brittany and Santana first and so he couldn't spend too much time analyzing the jock's peculiar actions or lack of action actually.

"Hey," he called out, getting everyone's attention. "Anyone up for a little Frisbee?" he asked, pulling out a neon-green disk from one of the numerous bags littering the blanket. The athletic boy had promised he'd get Evelyn to back off some and he needed to get some separation in the group.

Landon and Brittany quickly agreed, exchanging quick, suspicious glances with each other before standing and moving towards Mike.

"Are you serious?" Santana asked, rolling her eyes dismissively. "I _just_ got my nails done and I'm not ruining them to play some stupid, hippie, white-boy game. I'll pass."

"I'm in," Evelyn said, smiling at the group and picking herself off the blanket to stand near Brittany.

"What about you, babe?" Mike asked Tina.

"I'm practically melting just sitting here," she replied, gesturing to her traditional, dark clothes. "I think I'm gonna sit it out before I drop from heatstroke."

With that, the four teens jogged off a short way so they didn't have to worry about accidently hitting the two girls lounging on the blanket. They set themselves up into a large square and whipped the Frisbee from one corner to another, Mike doing his best to get the girls to loosen up around each other and just have a good time. He made silly jokes and attempted acrobatic throws through his legs or over his shoulder—feats that Brittany had to mimic and try to outdo, which of course led to Landon trying to show off as well. Evelyn held back and laughed at the athletic trio, sticking with the traditional throwing technique when the Frisbee would come to her.

It was only a matter of time before one of the teens lost control of a throw and it sailed just over Landon's outstretched fingertips and across the park, landing softly near a group of bikini-clad girls sun-tanning under the midday sun. Landon jogged over slowly to retrieve the disk.

Once she was out of earshot, Mike pulled Evelyn and Brittany over and in hushed tones started to revise the plan.

"So, hi," Evelyn said, grinning sweetly at Brittany. "I feel like we haven't been properly introduced." Knowing that shaking hands at this point would look odd, Evelyn simply bumped her shoulder into the blonde's. Brittany returned the girl's smile, happy to meet the real girl and relieved that the newcomer wasn't really interested in her like that.

Mike looked up quickly to see how much time they had left before Landon made it back to the group. He noticed the jock chatting with the girls and was pleased that he'd have a few minutes to figure everything out.

"Okay," he started, focusing on Evelyn. "Britt thinks you need to tone it down with the flirting some. Like still be interested and stuff, but like … cool it on the aggression."

"Hey, this is my first girl-flirt! I think I'm doing pretty well considering."

"No, no, you're doing great," Brittany interjected, not wanting to make the new girl feel bad. "This whole thing just makes me really uncomfortable," she said, ducking her head and crossing her arms over her chest.

Evelyn reached up and rubbed the blonde's shoulder. "I have to say," she said, looking from Mike to Brittany to Landon who was still engaged in a conversation across the park, "I don't know why all of this is necessary. Santana's obviously smitten and so overprotective of you. I swear I hear her growl every time I so much as look at you. I don't really get what the issue is."

"It's more complicated that it seems on the surface," Mike clarified. "As long as Santana and Landon are together-"

"Wait, what?" Evelyn looked around with wide, confused eyes. "Landon and Santana are together? _That_ Santana," she pointed to the dark-haired girl whose guarded eyes and tense jaw were trained unflinchingly on Evelyn and Brittany. "And _that_ Landon," she continued, shifting her gaze to the tall jock who was now lounging casually next to a cute blonde in a bright pink bikini. The jock threw her head back and laughed at something the blonde said, a wide smile stretching across her face.

Brittany followed Evelyn's line of sight and her face hardened at what she saw. Her bright eyes grew dark and she clenched her fists as she stomped determinedly over to the jock.

"Uh-oh," Mike mumbled, not used to seeing the perky blonde get angry and he was a bit apprehensive over what she intended to do.

"Hey!" Brittany called out, causing Landon to glance up. "Get up. Now." Her face was bright pink, rivaling the stranger's bikini top. The dancer's steely blue stare locked onto Landon who was completely taken aback by the firm tone and angry eyes.

"Is everything okay?" Landon asked, sitting up slowly, which turned out to be a bit too slowly for the irate blonde.

"Get up," she said, grabbing the jock by the arm and pulling aggressively.

"Okay, okay, sheesh, Pierce! Give me a minute."

But the young dancer was having none of it and turned her back to the jock, pulling her forcefully along with her.

Landon glanced back at the girls and lifted a hand awkwardly. "Bye ladies," she said before getting yanked painfully forward. "Ow, will you knock it off!"

"Shut up," Brittany chastised, continuing to tug the bewildered jock away. Once she reached an equally stunned Mike and Evelyn, she threw the jock's arm down violently. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked, accusation and contempt ringing through her voice.

"What am _I_ doing? I'm not the one manhandling people here," she replied, rubbing her tender wrist. The blonde had gone crazy. That was Landon's only explanation.

"I don't have manhands. That's Rachel. And stop trying to change the subject. You," she poked the jock in the chest, "are being rude." She placed her hands on her hips and tried to stare the taller girl down.

Landon threw up her hands and looked from Mike to Evelyn in the hopes that they could shed some light on what exactly she did wrong. Unfortunately, they looked as perplexed and lost as she did.

"What are you talking about?"

"She's _right there_," Brittany insisted, waving her hand in Santana's direction. "And you're _so_ stupid! People talk about me but _you're_ an idiot!"

"Hey!" Landon said indignantly.

"No," she insisted, stepping in close to the jock, forcing Landon to step back and grabbing her forearm. "You listen to me now. You're a fool if you think any of those blonde bimbos have anything on Santana. She's perfection and magic and you don't get to make her feel less than that." A thin film covered her eyes, making them shimmer and spark. "So cut it out. If you hurt her," she made sure Landon held her gaze, her body tense and ready to fight. "If you hurt her, I won't be as _nice_ as I have been," she said through clenched teeth.

A cold chill snaked down Landon's spine. She'd never heard such clarity and intensity in the blonde's voice before. A part of the quarterback was proud—satisfied even—that Santana had someone so willing to protect her. But a greater part was pissed that not only was she _not_ gonna get the girl; she was apparently not gonna be allowed to have game at all with any chick. No way was that fucking fair.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Santana regretted her decision to not join the Frisbee game almost immediately. Now, not only was she stuck with Tina; Evelyn was gonna get all kinds of alone time with her girl. _Well fuck me_, she grumbled dejectedly, watching the foursome walk away.

"I'm glad you decided not to play, Santana," Tina said tentatively. "I really didn't want to sit it out on my own." She took the girl's quick cock of her head as positive recognition of her statement. The goth girl had eked out a strange but oddly comfortable relationship with Santana and she didn't want to mess it up by interfering, but she felt a sense of loyalty to her as well and as much as she wanted things to work out for Brittany's sake, she wanted it for Santana too.

"So what's the deal, Tina?" Santana asked coolly, causing Tina to shrink back slightly. Dark, almost black eyes burned into her skin. "You trying to set B up with Asian Dr Doolittle there?"

Tina swallowed nervously. "What do you mean?" she asked as innocently as she could.

"Oh cut the crap. What are you Mike trying to pull here? B's not interested, okay?"

"We just want to see both of you happy, that's all. You got Landon," she looked away quickly, unable to withstand the girl's glare. "Um, I mean, if she's available, I'm sure someone's gonna snatch her up soon and Evelyn's nice."

Santana snorted at the claim. "Well, B's _not_ available, okay? So call your _friend_ off," she snarled.

Tina glanced up at the group in time to see Brittany stalk off after the jock who was chatting with some girls. "Does she know that?" Tina asked quietly.

Santana lowered her eyes, her lips pressed together in a thin line. She didn't know how to respond so keep her mouth shut, reaching out to snatch up a carrot stick and snapping it in half gruffly.

"Uh-oh," Tina said, drawing Santana's attention. "Do you think they're okay?"

Santana looked up to see Brittany grabbing Landon by the arm and barking in her face. By the jock's tense jaw and clenched fists, she knew Landon was doing her best to hold back but by the rise of splotchy red patches on her neck and in her cheeks it looked like she was losing the battle to contain herself.

"Great," she muttered under her breath, pulling herself to her feet and chucking the uneaten carrot pieces on the blanket. "Hey!" she yelled, grabbing the group's attention. "If you knuckle-draggers are done flicking that stupid disk around it's time to get our grub on. So move it!"

Mike and Evelyn breathed out a sigh of relief, thankful for the interruption. They had both been shocked at the blonde's outburst and didn't know whether to step between the two angry girls or just hang back and stay safe.

Brittany forcefully dropped Landon's arm, casting a final, searing glare at the jock before stalking off towards Tina and Santana.

Mike patted Landon reassuringly on the shoulder and shuffled Evelyn along. The jock watched them make their way back and took a moment to compose herself. She breathed deeply and tipped her head back, soaking in the heat of the sun.

The group finished an awkward lunch and while Mike and Tina tried to lighten the mood, it didn't take long for all of them to decide to pack it in and call it a day.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Santana wanted to scream. She was lying back on her bed, loose sheets of paper scattered all around her. She attempted to chuck the sheet in her hand far from her body but it caught on the air and ended up fluttering back down to her lap. A primal groan bubbled up from her chest and she crumpled the paper forcefully and threw the ball across the room where it landed next to an overflowing trashcan.

She was getting a migraine and she couldn't bring herself to read one more set of sappy, overly wrought song lyrics. She glanced towards her desk and a shiny, multicolored brochure caught her eye. With a quick sweep of her hand, she gathered up the rest of the paper littered around her, walked up to her desk and shoved the stack in a cluttered drawer.

Santana sat down heavily and opened her laptop. While she waited for it to load, she put on her glasses and flipped through the brochure filled with smiling students and beautiful landscapes. "University of California Berkeley" was printed in bold lettering across the top of each page. She grabbed a highlighter and pen and started reading through the material.

Two hours later, a different stack of papers surrounded the girl, and she pulled off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. She grabbed her phone and punched out a quick text to Brittany.

**Come over? There's something I wanna show you.**

Forty-five minutes later, Brittany was bounding into her room, a happy, wide smile stretched across her face. "What ya got going on?" she asked, taking in all of the notes and printouts and pamphlets gathered in neat piles on the bed.

"Come sit," Santana beckoned, patting the clear space next to where she sat cross-legged on the bed. After the blonde settled in close, resting her head on the brunette's shoulder, she continued. "I've been doing research for colleges and stuff. Some of these applications are due really early so I figure we better narrow things down and get started soon."

Brittany swept her eyes over the extensive stacks, feeling a bit overwhelmed by it all. She wasn't the most studious person and the extent of Santana's research was a bit intimidating.

"I started with California and New York schools only," Santana continued, "but we can look at other places if you want to." She fiddled her fingers nervously. "I really think our best options are here though," she said softly, trying to read the quiet blonde who was dragging her finger across a colorful page.

"Um," Santana said, uncertainty lacing her voice. "What do you think?"

Brittany bit her lip and looked up at her best friend. "What did you find?"

"Well," the dark-haired girl pointed at one half of the bed. "These are New York options and these are California options. I highlighted the stuff I think you should read and made some notes." She picked up a stack and handed it to the lightly smiling blonde. "I know it's a lot, but it's important, B."

"Okay," Brittany replied, taking the papers almost reverently. "Do I have to go over _all_ of this?" she asked with wide eyes.

Santana smiled adoringly at the blonde's innocent expression. "_Actually_," she said, stretching the word out, her eyes sparkling. "I've got a pretty good idea of what the best fit for us will be, but I do want you to look over the other packets to be sure, okay?"

The blonde nodded and put the stack in her hands down. "Okay. But what do you _really_ think about all of this?" She bumped her shoulder against Santana's.

"I think we should go to New York," she replied simply. "The performance arts programs are just more legit and top-tier in New York. And opportunities to dance are gonna be more high-quality there. I mean, California's great and you'd probably be able to get into music videos or commercials to start, maybe even hook-up with tv. So if you really want to go there we can. But you got the _theater_ in New York, B. And I really think you need to start at the top. Get the best training possible and really go for the big leagues. California will always be there when we're ready."

Brittany didn't know whether she wanted to laugh or cry. She was so, so happy. Santana had done all of this for her, for them, and she felt her heart swell. "What about Berkeley? I thought you always wanted to go to California cuz of all the other brown people."

A soft chuckle filled the room, and Santana smiled sheepishly. "There's a lot of diversity in New York too, Britt. Besides, I can go to law school anywhere. I don't care where we go as long as it's outta this small-ass town." Her grin took the sting out of the words. "I really think New York's the way to go. So you should start with these schools and see which you like," she said, indicating several stacks with "New York" written in Santana's neat cursive on post-its on the top page.

"I'll help you with your personal statements," Santana went on, "and getting all of your materials together, but we should get started soon. Um," she paused, her eyes fluttering down to focus on her hands in her lap. "Have you thought more about rejoining Cheerios?"

Brittany broke out into a wide smile and grabbed Santana's hands. "Let's do it!"

A dark head whipped up and anxious brown eyes caught sparkling blue. Santana threw her arms around the dancer and hugged her tightly. "That's great! You won't regret it, I promise. You'll see, we're gonna get into some kickass schools. You'll see," she repeated, burying her head in silky blonde hair. She felt Brittany's hands draw soft patterns across her back and sank into the embrace. After a few, blissful moments, however, she felt the blonde stiffen in her arms.

"What's wrong?" she asked, pulling away to see Brittany darting her eyes away nervously.

"What about Landon?" Brittany whispered, her eyes downcast.

Santana sat back, a little stunned by the girl's concern. "What about her?" she questioned, still unsure of what Brittany was getting at.

"Where's Landon going to school?"

"Oh, I don't … I don't know. Probably some football college or something." She shrugged. "She hasn't mentioned anything."

"You never asked?"

"No, I didn't. " Santana sighed, picking up the blonde's hands and turning them over, running her thumbs up the palms. "This isn't about her. This is about our future." She swallowed slowly and squeezed Brittany's hands before looking up into bright, shiny blue eyes. "You're my favorite person, B. And we're gonna do this together."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Love, love, love hearing from you! I know several chapters back I said I'd wrap it up in four chapters. Yea, that didn't happen. :) But I'm pretty sure this only has 2-3 chapters to go. Unfortunately, I have to take a break from this story to focus on "Roughnecks" before there's a revolt over there. :) So I hope this is enough to tide you over for a bit. Thank you so much for your interest and patience! Please review if you get the chance. **


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